SGA Allies Arc 4  Of Mortal Men who resited Gods
by Garrowan
Summary: Three months have passed, with the events up to the Prodigal happening during it. The Nephilim have seemingly stopped their campaings on Human targets, instead subjegating those few Wraith left not in their service. Emnity between US and UK forces grows..
1. Chapter 1

Another British section came back through the Stargate into Atlantis. Sheppard looked over expectantly. The lieutenant in charge just shook his head.

"Damn it! All we keep finding is dead Hive ships and destroyed Wraith outposts. Not a sign of a Nephilim in almost two months now!" the colonel said angrily.

"Well, we've had a few problems of our own to deal with. Getting rid of Michael was a major outcome," Ronon said. Sheppard looked at him with his narrowed eyes.

"Since when did you become the voice of reason?"

"Since the Nephilim and Wraith have been going at each other, saving us the bother of killin' em both," the big man replied. "We can sort out whatever's left."

Sheppard walked to the balcony and leaned over the railing. Ronon joined him looking out over the city.

At the moment, the_ Lorcan_ and the _Iwo_ _Jima_ were docked. The _Victory_ was returning from Earth with supplies and the _Frasier_ was on patrol.

The pier that _Lorcan_ was docked on had well and truly become British. Although the troops occupied a relatively small part of the arm of the city, up towards the central tower, they still had made an impact. Hanging from some windows were Saltires, George's Crosses, Red Hands and even the odd Red Dragon. And, Hamilton had made them set up a Union Flag from one of the top level barrack rooms, at a diagonal slant out the balcony. It was brought in every night at sunset, and put out at Dawn.

"I'll have to talk to him about that," Sheppard muttered.

"What?" Ronon grunted back.

"Nothing, nothing." Sheppard replied. "I wonder what Macara would make of all this."

"Don't worry about it. Let's go," Ronon punched his arm lightly. "You owe me another fight anyway,"

"That wasn't a fight, that just a training session for you," Sheppard grinned, following Ronon. "Still, I wonder what he's up to just now?"

* * *

"Move it! Into cover, quickly! Keep away from those wrecked cars, you don't know what sort of IED nonsense they put in there," Macara bellowed at the platoon.

The men from 45 Commando darted between the low mud huts towards the Walled Taliban stronghold. Already, two Warrior IFVs had lost tracks to RPGs being fired from it, and RAF Intelligence at Kandahar was sure their recon flights had picked up mortar pits that were responsible for firing on Coalition convoys.

An unlucky A10 had even been taken out by high calibre machine gun fire from around the area, as the Taliban fired-and-faded between local villages. Building this fort amongst one of those villages had given them the best protection from Coalition forces they could ever want; fear of collateral damage.

The US senior officer in Kandahar had suggested just letting one of his F-15s going and 'tear it up', but the area of Helmand the British were in was starting to come round to the foreign soldiers through painstaking hearts and minds operations, and Colonel Oliver Lee (MBE,) had decided that dropping massive poundage of bombs on a Taliban fort, surrounded by tightly packed houses and families, would probably not help anything.

So two companies of 45 under Major Micklewhite, with Major Macara as 2IC, were storming the bugger instead.

Fire from two American Apaches had weakened the walls and were keeping the defenders pinned down. Snatch Land Rovers and Warriors were in support with their automatic weapons, and the Commandos advanced.

Macara darted forward as his men made their fire-and-manoeuvre advances perfectly. Desultory AK fire pattered by, but nothing too serious.

Thirty yards away, an RPG hit and Macara could hear calls for a medic. At least there was no 'KIA' coming through.

He and the section he was with made it to one of the holes in the mud wall. These forts were usually a warrens nest of small huts and rooms surrounded by a 10ft wall. This one would need to be carefully taken out to avoid casualties to his own men.

"Okay, smoke and flashbangs!" he called. Three devices went through the hole.

With a triple *crump*, Macara turned to them "Usual drill, first through secure front, every second secure left and every third secure right. Move!" he barked.

Macara went through first. Ata first he couldn't see any assailants thanks to a muddy wall, but as he rounded the corner, he saw two Taliban staggering from the flashbangs.

Depressing the trigger quickly, he downed both men.

"Move up!" he called, as his section came through the breach.

A second later, an explosion went off behind them, showering his men with debris.

"IED in the wall!" his sergeant, Johnstone, called out.

Macara heard a man screaming and doubled back.

Marine Gerrard had taken some of the blast, and his right leg was a good twenty feet away from the rest of him. Bright blood was pumping out rather too quickly. The Marine snarled in a mix of pain and anger.

"Medic! Jenkins, get over here!" Macara snarled, trying to tourniquet the grisly leg stump.

"Jenkins, watch him, keep him safe. Section, move up,"

"Sir, he's losing too much blood. We need to get him out of here," Jenkins stated, dressing the wound as best he could, his aid kit open and bits falling into the sand.

The rest of the platoon was streaming through the breach now, and their Captain was doing a good job of taking charge. Macara shouldn't really have been with the section anyway, and now their captain was here they could advance without him.

"I'll take him. Move up with the lads,"

"Yes, sir," Jenkins muttered, packing his aid kit away.

Macara hauled the screaming Gerrard onto his shoulders and ran for the nearby Snatch Land Rovers which were moving up into support.

Major Micklewhite was directing the attack from one, radioing all his subordinates, keeping a damned fine eye on all the events, and he knew where everyone was and what their job was.

Macara ran past his Landy to the one that could get Gerrard to a medivac and handed him to fully trained trauma medics, before turning and heading back to the fight.

As he reached the CO's Landy, Micklwhite turned to him.

"You don't need to go running about like that anymore, major. You are a senior officer now, try to keep the plan in action and show over-all command." The older man advised. Macara knew what he meant; he himself had commanded almost a full Battalion in Pegasus, so he knew better than running forward with the sections like a 2nd Lieutenant.

"Of course sir. Just trying to find something useful to do,"

"No need to call me sir, Nathan. I need you to take command of the western flank. They're getting a little panicked."

"Of course, major. Will do," Macara replied. He hitched up his rifle and ran off.

Above him, Apache's rained Cannon fire into the Taliban in the fort.

* * *

Macara staggered back to his tent at Camp Bastion after the debriefing. They had done a good job today. Twelve confirmed Taliban casualties, with another eight unconfirmed, and six prisoners, including one high level commander. For the cost of seven injured Marines, a wrecked Warrior and a broken L85, it was a very good job.

He entered, and lay his kit on his bed, and noticed a letter waiting for him.

He went to pick it up, when his sleeping bag moved.

Macara jumped back to see a camel spider emerge, fangs poised in defence.

"Damn!" Macara spluttered involuntarily. "Camel Spider in my fecking bed, that's all I need." He said, realising whoever brought in the letter must have left the tent flap open.

Picking up a spare boot, Macara slammed it down on the vicious thing, smearing it across his sleeping bag.

"Oh, hell," the major breathed. He shook the body off his boot onto the floor, but a nice little patch of wet arachnid-innards was now on his sleeping bag. Now he'd have to hope he could get another in stores.

Sitting cautiously on the end of the cot, he took the letter and opened it.

It was from MacGregor.

Macara, out of respect for MacGregor, read the letter instead of scrunching it up and throwing it in the bin straight away.

It mentioned what was happening with the Nephilim, mentioned how sorry he was about the death of Rai, and asked if he'd heard about Sussana Valenski. Macara shook his head sadly; he'd heard rumours, but no confirmation.

The letter also asked him to come back, and if the rumours about Major General Salmon and he convincing the RN to abandon the UKGTF were true.

It ended by wishing him well, and again telling him to reconsider.

Macara scrunched it up and tossed it across the tent, before lying back.

A moment later he felt the sticky wet patch forming on his shirt, went to move, and just decided he didn't care.

"God damn it," he breathed.

* * *

**MacGregor winced in pain as Carolyn restitched his leg, he refused a local much to her dismay, so she made him feel every thread and repeatedly admonished him for his hijinks that had undone the work to begin with.**

**"Admiral you were told to stay of your feet for a week at least, now this is not going to heal well at all, doing it over a second time." She looked at him sternly as she stood and put the tray away. Landry and O'Neill seemed to take great pleasure in their friend's pain, as they both stood by the door of the infirmary.**

**He pulled his trousers back on and looked at the two men. "Having fun lads?" He said sarcastically. He was in no mood for anything at the moment. With the Alliance falling apart and now news with the scrunched letter he held, that his son a captain in the famed SASR had been accepted for the SGC training programme. That was bad enough, but the letter was two months old as it had been redirected so many times. "This is a bloody mess, and I have several suspects to blame for it. Anyway, the three of us have a lot of work to do." He grabbed his crutches and stood, wobbled a bit and thanked Carolyn for her work, then hobbled out the door.**

**Jack turned to Landry as they both watched MacGregor head for the elevator. "You should have at least told me about his son Hank, I could have withdrawn the kids posting, well delayed it anyway...I think." **

**"I thought about it Jack, but if that got out, we'd be both answering every damned parent of every kid on the programme, favouritism does not go down well you know."**

**"Yeah there is that. Where is Ben now?"**

**"On the **_**Victory**_**."**

**"Damn, does he know?" He shoved his thumb in the direction of the elevator.**

**"No, but he'll find out soon enough, if his leg holds together, he'll be on the Britannia and heading for Atlantis in a week, with four new C403 heavy armed transports aboard, with an element of the 38th Marine Armoured group, under Colonel Douglas Sharpe, with a Abrams for each 403. She's also carrying a great deal of badly needed supplies for the city as well, so Chicago will escort her only as far as Atlantis and return immediately. "**

**"Sharpe eh, nice. A real hard ass. Though I gotta say, I would not like to be on the receiving end of Mac's temper when he lets loose, it's not pretty Hank I can tell ya. "**

**"Yes I know." The two of them headed for the briefing room and met with SG1 in the passageway, Cam saw the looks on their faces and decided it was best not to say what he had meant to, now did not seem to be the best time for his smartass-ness. The team followed a respectful distance behind.**

**"Say Hank, why do they need heavy armour in Pegasus? That's a little overkill dont'cha think?" Jack said with a puzzled look on his face.**

**"The Nephilim Jack, can't stand ballistics, so we send in the biggest we can. Oh and you'll be pleased to know, Davis fully recovered and is **_**Chicago's**_** captain." Hank seemed rather proud of his revelations.**

**Thousands of kilomtres away, Macara tossed in his bedding, then finally he could stand it no more, he got up and said. "Stuff it, if he wants me that bad, he'll have to pick me up." He then began writing a letter to his CO.**

**

* * *

**

**One Week on**

"Here they come, sir," Chuck said to Woolsey.

"Thank you Che…Chu…erm, thank you," Woolsey replied. Chuck simply sighed.

One their scanner screen, two blips appeared from hyperspace…

The _Britannia_ appeared first, followed quickly by the almost identical form of the Chicago. The two 340's came about and entered an orbit of Atlantis.

Aboard the _Chicago_, the newest ship, Commander Gordon, standing in for Davis, looked from the viewpoint.

"Wow, they must really be taking this threat seriously. Daedalus and Iwo Jima here in orbit, Frasier and Lorcan on patrol, and Victory on pier two." Gordon whistled. The commander was impressed by such a show of Earth's space power.

"Orders, sir?" Gordon's rather humourless XO asked.

"Yes, beam down supplies, and then get us back to Earth, please," Gordon ordered.

* * *

In the gate room, supplies began to appear. Squadron Leader Dale and the eight Rock Apes who were providing guard began moving crates out of the way, to make sure people could still get through to them.

Several figures appeared with the supplies; Two in USMC ACU, and one, a captain, in AusCam.

The USMs were Major Sharpe and Captain Harris respectively. Sheppard went to greet them and took their salutes. The Australian captain just nodded.

"Nice to meet you guys. I'm colonel Sheppard, this is Warrant Officer…."

"Warwick Spencer!" the Australian beamed a smile.

"Ben!" Wacca said in delight, before remembering himself. "Captain MacGregor, sir,"

Ben ignored the informality and walked over, hugging Wacca tight. "Good to see you old man. Where's my platoon?"

"They are in the Australian mess, sir. This way," Wacca said, still smiling. He began leading Ben away. "How's the leg?"

"Fine, fine…"

Yamato looked over from the control room with interest.

"He's pretty damn fine," she muttered, checking both Ben's tanned face, and his rear when he walked away.

"Wait...I thought you liked the lady?" Chuck asked, surprised.

"And? Even I can appreciate a perfect specimen," she smiled slyly. Chuck stammered slightly, a little jealous.

"He's not that perfect…anyway, are you free tonight? Maybe you'd like to…."

"Nope. I said appreciate, not be turned by." Yamato smiled sweetly before going back to work.

* * *

Sheppard watched the two Australians walk off before continuing.

"Well, major Sharpe, let's get you to you billets," Sheppard began.

"No, sir. I would just like a quick debriefing as to the critical situation since we left Earth, and then I will have my vehicles transferred to the _Victory_," Sharpe said, his tone hard.

Sheppard seemed a little taken aback, but made a weak smile and nodded.

"Very well major. I'll take you to the briefing room right away,"

As the colonel led the USMs to meet Woolsey, Sqd Ldr Dale heard one of his Gunners mutter.

"More bloody Yanks. And Marines at that. Worst kind of anything, Marines,"

"Too right, mate. You know what they say; Muscles are required, intelligence not expected," another laughed in reply.

"Stow it. Now" Dale said quietly. "They're on our side,"

"Sorry, sir," he received from both.

Dale shook his head, but secretly, silently, he agreed with them.

* * *

"Ma'am, a visitor for you," Wacca said from the infirmary door.

Cate, Sydney and Anne were sitting chatting away, and turned to see Ben enter.

Cate dashed across and hugged her brother, and Anne looked on in pleasant surprise.

"How are you, Ben?" Cate asked, still squeezing tight.

"Fine sis. How are you?"

"She recovered, finally, after doing nothing that her mother would tell her to," Anne replied, coming across and hugging him in a much more controlled matter. "Surely you father wouldn't send you out with both of us here?"

"He doesn't know. And I have new orders for Cate," he said, looking a little sadder now.

"What is it, Ben?" Cate asked quickly.

"In light of recent events, and the fact they've sent me and mum out here too, ASIS and the IOA want you, and Sydney, back on Earth for a debrief,"

Cate let it sink in for a moment. "But we have been working too hard here to go now…"

"Listen, I have no say in these orders. I have already sent Boondah round to Woolsey with a coy. You are to go by Gate, as soon as possible," Ben finished firmly, but with a saddened look on his handsome face.

Cate nodded, anger clouding her own. It was Anne who kept her calm.

"Honey, it makes sense; the IOA needs to be fully debriefed, and I'm not sure they can trust the US military to do it," Anne shrugged an apology at the CIA agent standing with them. "And I'm not happy having two of my children here at the same time as me, in the current crisis. Please, head home, see you father,"

Cate nodded again, some of the hard lines on her face softening.

"Come on sis, we can go and get a drink in the British bar before you leave. I know the Pommes always have one set up," Ben began.

"Ah…" Cate started. "There might be a problem there."

"What? No bar?" Ben asked, only partly in jest.

"No. Colonel Hamilton," Anne replied, her voice cold.

* * *

"Incoming message!" Chuck called, and Yamoto ran over.

"What now?" She asked.

"The medical team on L9X-391 is under attack! Doctor Keller and Doctor Beckett request immediate assistance!" Chuck said, worry on his face. Woolsey paled.

"The Nephilim have attacked? But we have twenty three people there!"

"The planet has twenty six thousand," Yamoto said pointedly.

Sheppard and Sharpe ran in, quickly followed by Squadron Leader Dale.

"What's wrong?" the colonel asked.

Woolsey recited the message.

Sheppard didn't take long to decide. He ordered three city security teams to arm up, and sent for Hamilton, before getting Yamoto to patch him through to General Caldwell's office.

Caldwell listened without interrupting, before issuing his orders.

"Right, I want the _Victory_, _Iwo_ _Jima_ and _Daedalus_ to head out now. It'll only take them a couple of hours to get to L9X-391. Major Sharpe, get aboard _Victory_ with your tanks. Sheppard, get Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton to bring a Company of his Grenadiers. Major Dale is to take command of the military left in the city," that comment made Squadron Leader Dale look up in shock, but still fairly pleased. "And I want Captain MacGregor's team to come too. We have a chance to pound these creatures into the dust, and with the Abrams hopefully we can do it quickly. I'll be beaming straight to the _Victory_. Sheppard, you and Hamilton take the infantry through now and engage," the comm went dead.

No one moved for a heartbeat, then Sheppard barked.

"You heard the general. Get to it!"


	2. Chapter 2

Hamilton's company dashed through the gate, closely followed by Sheppard's team and three city security teams. Captain MacGregor and his team were already through, advancing through the maze of grassy ravines and outcroppings.

They could here gunfire in the direction of the closest settlement, and it was slowly sounding less and less.

"The teams you sent with doctor Keller?" Hamilton asked Sheppard.

"Most likely. Right, the settlement is about a klick away, past those low hills. I recommend that you send some Javelin's forward and set up Ops…"

"With respect, lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, I command my men. And large scale ground operations. I believe your General Caldwell agreed to this?" Hamilton said, full of rhetoric. He summoned all the officers, US and British, before continuing speaking. "Now, our Javelins can't lock on, so we will have to get closer. I will send my sniper teams into those hills. We will call the gate our generic North. I want two of colonel Sheppard's teams to move round to the East, and sweep in towards the village. Make sure you have an MG with you," Hamilton nodded to the men. "Captain Martins, take two platoons and do the same to the West. The rest of 7 Coy will form two equal sized groups and advance directly on the enemy. I want a hundred metres spread, please, gentlemen. Colonel Sheppard, if you and your extra team will pick a group to join, that is your decision as befits your rank." Hamilton finished off his blur of orders. Officers were quickly noting down their parts of the plan.

Sheppard thought for a moment.

"I'll take my two teams and go round the East, keep the city security together. They know me better," Sheppard said tactfully.

"You mean they don't dislike you as much. No matter, as long as you believe they can do the job well enough. Okay, synchronise your timepieces, gentlemen, in three, two, one, set."

There was a flurry of bleeps as watches were set, and the force broke apart and spread out.

Sheppard was not looking forward to this engagement, and it wasn't just fighting the Nephilim that left him feeling nervous.

* * *

Ben moved forward slowly through the crags. The grass was wet and slippery underfoot, and his SASR, who had spent the last 18 months in and out of Afghanistan, kept having to check their footing and make sure they were keeping silent. But these men were some of the best, and they moved forward with skill none-the-less.

Ben had set up three sniper positions, and the remaining men were getting LMGs into place. Hamilton's orders had been clear

Do NOT engage until everyone is in position.

But Ben could see the action now, and was not interested in keeping calm or waiting for the Pommes to hurry up.

Several soldiers were fighting a desperate stand, but of the eight USMs who were with the scientists, only three remained.

Doctor Beckett and Keller were with them, the former firing a P90 with no little skill, especially for a non-com.

The other medical staff, or at least those left alive, huddled behind the soldiers. All around, people of the village fled in terror, or were being life-sucked by Wraith.

Wraith Drones pressed in from everywhere. And flying across the sky were two Nephilim; one with a Sabre and mask, and grey wings, the other one of the Nobility. She was striking waves of electricity around, aiming for civilians singled out from the bigger groups and reducing them to charred corpses.

Even as Ben watched, another Warrior, this one with a halberd, descended on some hapless natives and began to drain it of its soul.

"Boondah, take some shots, please?" Ben whispered down his mic.

A .50 boomed a report, and one Warrior was lifted backwards, a bloody wound in his torso.

The creatures had obviously learned from their mistakes in the past. Instead of flying up, away from cover where Boondah would take them down with ease, they descended into the village, wings folded tight across their backs.

From the valley, fully one hundred Wraith Drones now turned their attentions to Ben's teams.

"Shit," Ben muttered. "Open fire!"

* * *

Sheppard heard the automatic weapons going off, and cursed. None of the infantry was in position yet.

"Let's move!" he called, and burst into a run. Ronon was easily at his side, McKay falling behind all the trained soldiers as they ran to the sounds of battle.

"Will, Cate's here. And we have a report. Large engagement in Pegasus. Caldwell's mobilised the ships he has, and a heap of infantry," Jack said, entering the room.

"Damn. Right, tell Cate I'll talk to her shortly. And you, too, Jack. You should have told me Ben was out there," MacGregor admonished.

Jack nodded. "True enough, but I didn't want you to worry until Cate was safely back through the Iris,"

Will nodded. "Well, thanks for trying, anyway. What about this engagement?"

"Caldwell seems to have it in hand, he left a full briefing before going out. He's taken Victory, Daedalus and Iwo Jima out to support ground units. Hamilton and Sheppard are taken about two companies of infantry with heavy ballistic support. Those Abrams will come in handy, too." Jack said, the smile on his face more like a grimace.

"There are going to be casualties," MacGregor said sadly.

"There are over twenty thousand humans on that world, Will. And it was Woolsey decided it was worth the cost to try and save them," O'neill said, not convinced.

"We can talk about this later, Jack. I have a meeting with Brigadier Melchett, General Salmon and Major Macara." MacGregor said, changing the subject.

"Macara? What are the RMC doing back? I thought he'd given up on us months and months ago?"

"You're right, Jack, and apparently he had something to do with the Royal Navy pulling out of the UKGTF. But he seems to have heeded my letters, and has come to talk. Landry is representing the SGC, I the Gate Alliance. Feel free to tag along," MacGregor said to O'neill.

"I think I might. I want to see Melchett put in his place again," O'neill laughed out loud as the two men strode form the office.

* * *

Macara and Major General Andy Salmon stood outside Melchett's office, waiting. It was extremely rude to keep the senior General waiting, but Melchett seemed in a bit of a panic. No one at UKGTF Army HQ had known that the Marine senior officer was visiting Cheyenne.

"Now remember, Major, keep a civil tongue. We don't want any political troubles," the general said.

"Don't worry, sir. I actually get along with _these_ generals," Macara said honestly.

"I meant with Melchett," Salmon smiled lightly. Macara grinned, something the general had not seen him do in a long time.

The lift at the far end of the corridor opened, and the two USAF Generals, with the formidable Australian Admiral, walked along towards them.

The four general officers greeted each other, shaking hands. Macara stood stiffly to attention, hand in a smart salute.

"As you were, major," Landry nodded. "Good to see you again,"

"Sir," was the only reply Macara would give. Landry gave a sly grin to O'neill.

"Right, shall we go in?" MacGregor opened the door, not caring a jot for Melchett's opinion on the matter.

* * *

"Move 2 Platoon forward! We're getting flanked here, and I want those Drones taken care of!" Hamilton shouted through the mic.

Above him, three Darts, heavily modified, were attacking his positions. They didn't seem to have culling beams, but were better armed for ground attack.

A second later, a Starstreak missile launcher belched smoke, and one Dart became a falling pile of flaming debris.

Hamilton's battle was going fairly well, all things considered. The Wraith Drones, now outnumbering his forces as more came from Nephilim ships in orbit, were pushing hard towards the village. Amongst them, a third Nephilim, this one armed with a glaive.

The Grenadier Guards knew how to defend, and had set up great enfilading positions from the houses and streets. Sheppard's men were also fighting well, having been trained to operate in the tight confines of Atlantis.

Hamilton still worried about where the Nephilim had gone. They went to ground in the village, but as his forces moved in, they could find no trace of the creatures.

"Sergeant Delaney, take two sections and push back those Drones with the heavy turret. I'll have MacGregor's snipers support you," Hamilton ordered again.

The flap of great wings was the first thing Hamilton saw of the Nephilim Warrior.

The next was the glaive that sliced through the front of the building he was in. One of the Grenadiers in his command staff was split in two by the blow, fingers tightening on the trigger in rigour. A brave corporal dived forward and wrenched the weapon from the dead hands.

"Get some fire on that!" the RSM bellowed, opening fire with his rifle.

Every machine gun with a line of sight, turned on the beast and opened up

The Nephilim shook with the impacts, and pale blood splattered across the floor. It swept with its halberd, taking two Guardsmen down with a single stroke, before flying backwards and away as quickly as it could.

"Watch for hit-and-run attacks like those!" Hamilton ordered, before turning his attention on the renewed Wraith attack.

* * *

Across the village, the Warrior with the sabre descended into a group of city security, and slaughtered the five men behind a barricade before Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon could get a bare on it.

Ronon fired with a G36K, his pistol, like all energy weapons available to them, proving to be of little use.

The Nephilim roared as rounds hit its wings, and it burst out into the sky again, before diving into cover.

"We are going to need reinforcements, and soon," Sheppard said, dropping two more Drones who got too close to the human barricade.

"The _Victory_ should be only minutes away, colonel," Teyla said, mercilessly slaughtering Wraith with tight, accurate bursts to the head, making sure they couldn't regenerate.

One Wraith at the barricade sat up and grabbed Teyla's leg. Ronon kindly put a round or four in its skull before it finally realised it should be dead.

"We keep fighting, keep killing, and eventually they'll decide to go away," Ronon grunted.

"You actually believe that, Chewie?" Sheppard asked in between bursts from his P90.

"No,"

* * *

Hamilton called through his radio, the two SASR left at the gate dialling straight to Atlantis, no enemy close enough to see the address.

"We need reinforcements! Squadron Leader, send 2 Company through, please,"

He waited a moment, then the answer came.

"_Yes, sir. They were standing by for you word anyway. Sending them through. The Victory should be there with the US Rifle company and some Abrams soon, too. I have my Squadron on standby, sir. Just let us know if you need us. Out_"

Hamilton sighed. That was better news, at least. Because every few minutes, another transport would bring more drones to the fray, and some British Grenadiers would come in handy.

* * *

Caldwell looked out the viewport as the Victory came out of hyperspace.

Before them were five Wraith-Nephilim Cruisers. Transports were moving to-and from the vessel, down to the surface.

"Major, launch the 401s and 403's with the support. And send some F302's as cover,"

"Aye, sir," the reply came sharply.

"Also, contact _Daedalus_ and _Iwo_ _Jima_. Ordered them to keep together and support each other; we know how tough these bastards are. Beat to quarters, take us at them," Caldwell ordered, sitting forward in his seat, the expectation of battle removing all sense of nervousness from him.

_Victory_ sailed straight for the nearest cruiser, _Iwo_ _Jima_ on the port and _Daedalus_ on the ventral starboard side.

The three Earth ships opened fire straight away, railguns and missiles streaking through space towards the converted Cruiser.

In turn, the Nephilim ships came about quickly, bringing their own weapons to bear. Blue lightning streak through space, striking the _Victory_ down the port side. Her shields flared in a nimbus of colours, but held from the first strike.

The first rail-rounds smacked into the target Nephilim Cruiser. At first, the rounds simply hit the hull, cause what looked like glass stress-fractures. But as more impacted, the hull started to spider along a vast section of ventral plating.

Most the nukes were destroyed en route, but one struck and clipped the 'wing' of the injured cruiser.

The ensuing explosion erupted round the vessel, shattering it like porcelain. The sections of obsidian hull survived the nuclear fire, but the vessel itself was torn asunder by the blast-wave.

The other two cruisers were far enough away to avoid taking too much punishment, and they moved apart even more to ensure that two ships weren't lost in a single blast.

The first Darts approached the Earth ships, but not in the massive numbers they normally wielded. These ships had been upgraded like the fighters strafing the ground forces.

In return, the 302's were let loose. The compliments from 3 ships, join by a squadron of 401's raced to engage the enemy single-ships.

Missiles streaked towards the Nephilim fighters, and smaller sized lightning blasts flashed back in return. Several Darts exploded, and one 302 was blasted from the sky. The single-craft flew through each other like a swarm of angry insects, shooting, dodging, all pretence of ordered flying forgotten as they simple avoided colliding, then came around to re-engage.

As the fighter wings hit, the flight of 403's with a trio of fighter escorts broke away from the main group and sped for the planet below.

Caldwell was rocked forward again by another explosion on the bridge, but so far Victory was holding out well.

"Beam the Army Company to the surface. Have _Iwo_ _Jima_ come tight abeam with the Nephilim; it doesn't seem like the larger lightning bolts can target that close into its firing arc," Caldwell ordered, those commands in turn transmitted to the other human ships.

The _Victory_ shook again, and Caldwell looked intently at the tactical display as his ships pounded the enemy in return.

* * *

"Basically, this meeting was arranged for two reasons; 1), to try and keep the UKGTF together, and in the Gate Alliance, and to have the RMC brought back into the city," MacGregor said, getting straight to the point.

"We have our reasons for not wishing to return to the SG programme, Admiral," Salmon said simply. Macara stayed silent.

"Any chance you would…enlighten us with those?" O'neill asked pointedly, in his blunt, straight to the heart manner.

Melchett was pale, and looked rather nervous. He interjected before Salmon could speak.

"British military reasoning is not within your purview, general,"

"It is within mine, as senior Gate Alliance officer," MacGregor pointed out sharply.

"Only if said action actually involves the UKGTF. The rest of our military has absolutely nothing to do with your authority, especially the Navy." Salmon said, a bit more hotly than he meant.

"Look, all we want to know is why the Royal Navy pulled its troops, its portion of the funding and is in the process of pulling its ships," Landry said diplomatically. "In recognition of the blood we have spilled together, surely you can grant us that small privilege?"

Macara looked at Salmon, who just shrugged.

"The international politics, not to mention the treatment of the British contingent, as well as numerous concerns on Earth, promoted our withdrawal," Macara said politely.

"The politics affects everyone! They haven't taken a huff!" O'neill replied. Macara bridled at the comment,

"Not quite in the same way, sir, I assure you. Putting limits on how many ships we can make, putting limits on how high ranked an officer we can put on Atlantis, trying to take away any operational autonomy we have, that's not a fair partnership. Even the damned Russians get treated better than we do," Macara replied. General Salmon raised a hand to stop any more, before Macara said anything he would regret.

"Then, of course, there is the fact the SGC would like to have Navy funding but doesn't approve of the way the Navy trains it's officers, the authority it gives them or the abilities of the Marines we deploy," Salmon said. Melchett shuffled nervously.

"I'm sorry. What?" O'neill couldn't help himself. "We have said nothing of the sort. In fact, as much as it pains me to say, the only times that Atlantis has been relatively unified in purpose is when the major and his F Company were posted there. Hell, Will even _wants_ the major back," Jack said in surprise.

"The report we were given said the Royal Navy was unhappy with the SGC's leadership and thought that they needed to follow IOA doctrine more thoroughly. It also said that the RN would not return until a new senior staff was put in place," Landry said quietly.

Salmon frowned in confusion. "No, Landry, we didn't. We have no problem with the SGC; it's the IOA we object to. We never put any such wording in our reports, and the statement we received from the SGC came through the ARMY HQ from the UKGTF…." Salmon came to a halt, turning on Melchett. The other officer did likewise.

"Brigadier, is there something you would like to tell us?" MacGregor asked, his look predatory. Melchett swore quietly, and squirmed under the intense gaze.

"Bollocks."

* * *

The fight around the village was beginning to intensify. The Nephilim were landing more Wraith drones, and 2 Coy had come through the gate. Now the Drones were being hit from two sides, and were starting to wilt beneath the assault.

The Nephilim, however, were keeping their side in the fight. They swooped in from behind buildings and low hills and killed two or three men at a time, before retreating again. They were not stupid enough to sit in the open where the humans could concentrate their fire.

2 Coy pushed forward, scattering Drones until they managed to link with Sheppard's forces. The Grenadiers left ten men dead behind them, but had accounted for almost thirty Wraith drones, dead or seriously injured.

The captain, Peterson, approached Sheppard, deftly dodging a Wraith kill-blast in the process.

The fighting was quieting down a bit, as the Wraith realised frontal charges into a defended position wasn't the best plan they had ever had, and dug in. desultory firefights began, the Human forces ordered only to take shots when they had a kill shot.

"Speak to your colonel, but I'm sure he will agree, spread your platoons out around the barricades and if you have any ammo going spare, that would be brilliant," Sheppard said.

"We have plenty of NATO standard, so anyone with STANAG is fine, but you boys with P90's are in the shit," Peterson said. Sheppard cursed, and Ronon just grinned, holding up his G36.

"We have some additional L85's with us, sir, if you need," Peterson offered.

Sheppard shook his head. "Not yet, but keep them close, in case we run out of ammo." The colonel replied.

"Yes, sir," Peterson replied, before going off to find Hamilton.

* * *

Ben edged along to the corner of the building with a section of his platoon. The SASR were trying to flush the Nephilim out of the tightly packed town, so they could get them in the open where they would be able to bring then down. Boondah was leading another on the same task.

The flap of wings folding sounded, and Ben looked round the corner.

The Nephilim Warrior with the Halberd was there, wiping crimson blood from his weapon. Civilian or SG personnel, the captain couldn't tell.

Ben summoned his LMGs to the front, and sent two men across the narrow street whilst the Neph had his back turned.

Ben watched as the Nephilim spun his halberd around, before giving his men the nod.

Two LMGs and several G36K's barked fire at the alien monster, and it shook with impacts.

With a roar, it took to the air again. It tried a few times to squeeze between the building to get at them, but as they were providing such a thick volume of firepower, the alien thought better and went to find another spot.

The Aussie's released their triggers, and Benn ordered them onward, the skilled and professional soldiers moving quickly and silently.

* * *

The roar of engines came overhead, and the Wraith Darts assailing the ground positions turned their attention to some dots in the sky just too far away to see.

One Dart erupted in a fiery ball, only moments after coming around on this new threat.

Another was struck by a missile, which damaged its upgraded-obsidian hull, and sent it spinning, but not destroyed.

The unknown vehicles came nearer, and soon Sheppard could make out their shape.

"401's!" Teyla shouted over the noise of gunfire.

"No, they're too big," Ronon replied, blasting his pistol one handed at some Wraith drones.

"The new, bigger version then," Rodney quipped. "Does it really matter? They're ours, that is all that's important here!" the scientist said, firing his own P90.

The transports swept down, their turrets sweeping Wraith from the battlefield like toy soldiers. Three 302's flew overhead, protecting them, as the four ships disgorged their cargo.

With a howl, the Nephilim Warrior with the Sword, one of Uaithne's Guards, already wounded, flew at the ships, ready to strike them down whilst they were vulnerable.

He drew close, flying level and straight, taking no actions to avoid enemy fire.

There was a booming-roar, and a blast wave that stilled the battlefield, and the Nephilim flew backwards a good twenty feet before collapsing to the ground.

Already out of the first transport, Major Sharpe's Abram's, A-01, "Letter's with Malice" daubed on its turret, sat with the engine thrumming, smoke wafting from the barrel.

The Nephilim twitched and rose unsteadily to its feet. There was a large hole in its well defined torso, big enough to fit a human head through. The tank shell had gone straight through, exploding amongst the houses of the village.

Sheppard looked on in shock as the Nephilim staggered forward towards the tank despite the blood pouring from it.

"H.E, mass reactive shell please," Sharpe said calmly to his crew as the grievously wounded Nephilim stalked towards them.

The gunner grinned and took aim after the shell was slotted in.

There was another booming-cough, and the Nephilim came apart in an explosive impact that sent bits across the combatants.

The human forces roared and opened fire again. The four Abrams were now deployed, and were beginning to roundly whip the Wraith Drones. Machine guns and cannons barked, and Drones died in droves. The human armour was proving impervious to the small calibre Wraith fire.

* * *

"We may just win this," Sheppard said.

"Advance! Fix bayonets and support the armour!" Hamilton's voice came through Sheppard's comm.

Sheppard pressed his mic. "Colonel, shouldn't we stay in the protection of the village? We haven't killed all the Nephilim yet!"

There was a hiss of static, then Hamilton's voice boomed back. "Normally colonel, I'd quite agree. But those tanks have no infantry support out there, and I don't want to see them killed by Wraith drones who get within their firing arc. I'm not proposing a bayonet charge into the open, just close protection. And I am not asking your opinion, lieutenant-colonel!" Hamilton put emphasis on the 'lieutenant'.

Sheppard spat before answering. "Yes. Sir"

"Now what?" Ronon asked.

"Now we do something really stupid," Sheppard replied.


	3. Chapter 3

The battle in space was going well for the Humans. _Iwo_ _Jima_ had sustained a minor hull breached, and _Victory_ was taking a pounding, but they had now destroyed a second cruiser.

Caldwell sat on the bridge, a little worried about how well things were going.

"Keep up the pressure. And bring our fighters back once their done with the enemy screen; I don't want to lose them to the Cruiser's large lightning strikes,"

"Aye, sir," the major at tactical replied.

"Sir, we have two new contacts, coming in alongside us," the comms officer said suddenly.

"_Lorcan_ and _Frasier_?" Caldwell asked, hopeful.

"No, sir," that was the tactical officer again, a look of fear in his eyes.

* * *

Hyperspace erupted beside the human ships, and the shapes of two Nephilim-converted Hives appeared. Black-glass hulls and folded 'wing' protrusions marking them out instantly, they attacked almost as soon as they arrived.

"_Balor? You have come? We need you on the planet! Our attack is being countered!"_ Timrek spoke to the Bale King, linking their minds.

"_What is wrong, little Noble, can you not defeat a few humans?"_ the booming laugh of Balor replied.

Timrek snarled "_They have powerful vehicles that are proving tough to destroy. They are routing my Drones, and have killed another Warrior!_"

There was silence in Timrek's mind for a moment, then,

"_I am coming."_

Timrek said nothing more, but cursed her apparent inability to deal with the situation. At least with Balor, they should succeed.

* * *

The Hives opened their bay doors, and a stream of transports came forth, swarming towards the battle on the surface.

From one carrier bay, a large, Dart shaped object, only larger, shot forth at extremely high speed towards the planet's surface.

* * *

"Engage! Now!" Caldwell barked. "Concentrate all fire on a single target at a time. Damn! Broadcast to the _Lorcan_ and the _Frasier_. We need help!"

An Abram's boomed again, and Drone's died in a fountain of Earth and fire. L85's and M4's coughed, Wraith kill-blasts shot around, and the occasional flap of wings shadowed the battlefield before sweeping down to kill yet more humans in twos and threes.

The air filled with noise, even above that of the 403's flying in cover patterns. Wraith troopships entered the upper atmosphere, and came swarming towards the human town. Several ships broke off to go after smaller villages, but the large majority headed straight for the battle.

The 403's engaged, and managed to reap a fearsome tally amongst the Wraith vehicles, their missiles and Railgun turrets giving them a distinct advantage over the fixed-blasters of the enemy craft. But there were too many Transports, and many got through this tiny picket. One of the 403's, fired on by more enemy than it had missiles, and was blown from the sky.

Amongst the shapes of the enemy craft, a fiery shape fell to the ground. It looked like a Wraith transport, but was tilted on its axis with the engines to the rear. It also had obsidian wings folded around it, protecting it from the fiery wreath of re-entry.

This 'drop pod' came slamming through the sky, causing great waves of force to ripple before it. It overtook the Wraith reinforcements, speeding ever closer to the surface of the world.

Mere seconds before impact, the vehicles engines spluttered into life, fiercely arresting it's acceleration.

Then the pod hit, with bone-jarring force. A dozen Wraith Drones were flung around like rag-dolls, and even the Abram crews felt the blow.

The fighting lulled for a few moments as the sides of the pod, ravaged by its landing, fell open.

Standing in the middle of the wreckage was the great, hulking figure of Balor. The beast was silent, and looked around the battlefield. Human soldiers quailed in terror.

The Bale King bellowed his hate, and went to War.

* * *

_Victory_ took another scything hit from Nephilim weapons, her shields failing around her. On her dorsal port, _Iwo_ _Jima_ was in just such a desperate position too, with multiple fires across her decks. The human ships were fighting back, and _Daedalus_ had managed to take care of the last cruiser from the original group, leaving a crippled hulk floating in space.

But the Hives were too large for their combined railguns to handle, and came powering on despite the human assaults. The lead Hive scythed another blast of lightening at Iwo, and the small gunship shuddered

"Order the _Iwo_ _Jima_ to come about and take position behind us, quickly! She can't take any more of thi..." Caldwell started to order, but it was too late.

_Iwo_ _Jima_ took a direct hit that hit her waning shields couldn't stop, and punched straight through. That blow scoured several decks, leaving them open to space. Her engines died, and power stared failing in various parts of the vessel.

A trio of lightening beams flashed in form the second Hive, taking _Iwo_ at several points. The brave ship splintered like dry pasta, before exploding outwards. Debris and bodies floated through the cold of space.

"How many did we get?" Caldwell bellowed at his tactical officer.

"We beamed out fourteen, sir. Daedalus is reporting around twenty. And they got the commander out, too."

"Right. Now, get us into beaming range and contact the ground forces. We need to get out of here," Caldwell said realistically. "We can't fight these odds."

* * *

One Abrams shook as it fired, the cannon supporting the flanking infantry, who in turn where advancing on Hamilton's orders. They had been suddenly beset by massed Wraith Drones arriving from orbit, and they took cover behind the vehicles, returning fire against the hopeless numbers.

Sheppard and his city teams dragged several injured with them, and fired weapons taken from dead or injured Brits.

The Drones, now numbering in the several hundred, were pressing in, and the humans were taking casualties both to stun and kill blasts.

"Use the tanks for cover! Press towards the Gate!" Sheppard order as they advanced. Beside him, Ronon snarled and blasted away with his pistol, dropping Drones so hard they

One of the Abrams desperately traversed it's turret to fire on Balor, but the massive Cursed One was already upon it.

The Nephilim rammed the tank with his shoulder, and the vehicle tilted back slightly just as it fired, sending the round far up into the sky.

The Abrams thumped back on its tracks, and the Commander desperately had it reversing. Balor had different ideas.

The Nephilim sprang up upon the tanks, and grabbed the gun barrel. With a groan and a bellow, he slowly bent the barrel right back. He punched the top hatches again and again, even their toughened bolts and armour plating buckling.

Balor pulled the first crewman out, and tore him apart. The next man drew his P90 and fired off a few shots, but Balor cowed him with a glare from his eye. The Nephilim proceeded to rip the tank crew apart, despite the small arms fire that hit his hulking frame.

Sheppard watched in horror as Balor slowly dismantled the vehicle.

The other Abrams began to pull back to the village, and the Grenadiers had no option but to go with them.

"We are in very, serious, trouble," Sheppard groaned

* * *

"Brigadier Melchett, I would like an answer. Now." Salmon said coldly. All the general officers looked intently at him, and Macara just sat with an eyebrow cocked.

"Well...there may have been some...discrepancies with information as given..." Melchett tried.

"Bull shit" O'neill barked. "You've been lying to your own side, and to us!"

"But why?" Landry asked, confused.

"I think I can guess why," Macara muttered. The major stood and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes focussed on the British brigadier.

MacGregor looked at him, gaze stern, barely hiding the anger inside. "Tell us. And it better be a good damn reason,"

Melchett tried to speak, but Macara cut him off.

"The Brigadier has always said he wanted the Army in command of not only the GTF, but the Gate Alliance military. Slowly but surely, he has been achieving it. Think about it, sirs. The first time that General McAllister was reassigned and Melchett took over, the placing of more and more UKGTF units in the city, even when they weren't needed. The brigadier basically begged me to hand over a copy of my report on my misgivings on the SGC and IOA. It seems he has made some changes," Macara said, taking some documents, labelled "Top Secret - Eyes Only Restriction" and throwing them across the desk.

Landry grabbed the top sheefs of paper, on which Macara's original report was written. As he read, Macara continued to speak.

"It seems that the Brigadier has engineered the transfer of information to suit his needs. I never recommended any withdrawal of support, and neither did Major General Salmon. We were told, by the Navy, through reports from the Army GTF office, that our cooperation had been refused on a further basis, and that US forces no longer wanted us," Macara muttered.

"I can guarantee, major, despite our differences..."

"And the fact I can't stand you," Jack interrupted

"I can guarantee, despite our differences, that we did not request your removal," Landry finished. He put down the report. "And according to this, Macara definitely said nothing as to the Royal Navy leaving. He made some pretty damning comments about the IOA, from the small amount I have read, but seemed fine with the SGC," the Major General said.

Melchett stood then, a little bluster returning. "This is absolute madness. I realise you Marines want everyone to play to your tune, but this is a step too far!" he tried in vain.

MacGregor stood then, growling angrily.

"Brigadier, I'm relieving you of command of the Gate Alliance forces under UKGTF command." his voice was a barely controlled growl.

"You can't do that. You don't have the authority." Melchett sneered.

"But I do," Salmon stood too, a grim look on his face. "Brigadier General Colin Melchett, please hand over your side arm and rank slide," Melchett said formally.

"Are you going to side with them?" Melchett hissed in frustration. "They marginalise us, they take our money but give nothing in return. They give the colonials more power than us!"

"We colonials have earned it," MacGregor snarled.

"So have we, ten times over." Macara chirped in, only partially in jest.

"Shut up, major," Salmon, Macgregor and O'neill replied at the same time. Macara grinned and shrugged.

"Melchett, your actions are unbecoming of an Officer in her Majesty's armed forces and I am relieving you of your command," Salmon said again. "Major?"

"Yes, sir." Macara grinned fiercely. "MPs!" he bellowed out the door of the office.

Two Brits, wearing the traditional redcap of the Royal Military Police, entered.

"Take the general into custody and prepare him for the trip back to the UK," Salmon said. Melchett tried one more attempt to reason, but the MP's bustled him away.

"Right, I have some phone calls to make," Salmon said to Macgregor, "But with your good graces, I could be in command here within two days, and have the RN back on the job,"

Will nodded, a small smile creeping across his face. "That would be good, General," Will held his hand out and shook the Marine commandant's.

"Before you step out to fight the enemy, you should always check to make sure you don't do so alone," Landry muttered.

"Who was that? Sun Tzu?" O'neill asked confused. Landry looked round, and smiled. "Oh, no, nothing like that. Warmaster Macaroth, from Gaunt's Ghosts. Quite a good sci-fi series," Hank laughed. O'neill just shook his head.

"Right, well, now that is sorted, I'm going to watch that arrogant swine kicked off my base!" Landry said.

"Oh, good! Then lunch." O'neill replied. "Let's go!" Jack pointed in a random direction and followed Landry out.

MacGregor turned to Macara, who was still grinning.

"Glad to have you back, major,"

The smile faded, and Macara just shook his head.

"I'm not back colonel. I just wanted to try and get the situation sorted, out of respect for you, if nothing else," Macara said honestly.

"But Nathan..."

"If you've nothing else you require me for, Admiral, I have a Company to get back to in the Sandbox." Macara saluted and left too.

MacGregor looked at Salmon, who shrugged.

A moment later, Landry returned, a flushed Siler with him.

"What is it, Hank?" MacGregor asked, worried.

"We lost the _Iwo_ _Jima_,"

* * *

Balor swiped down at the retreating infantry, breaking two Grenadiers like rag dolls. The men were pulling back to the village, Wraith Drones surrounding them, their armour also pulling back.

Hamilton was with his men, now onto his second L85, the other's handgrip breaking under the heat of repeated firing. This one had a bayonet on the lug, attached by the former owner as a last ditch.

"Pull back! Move!" he bellowed over the noise.

A kill-blast shot past him, and the Grenadier turned to see the Wraith breaking through part of his line.

The colonel turned to fire his assault rifle, but the bolt hit an empty chamber.

"Oh fu..." the colonel swore.

Sheppard was there in an instant, firing a G36 he had found somewhere. Sheppard dropped a Wraith major, then fired the remains of the clip into the prone form, just to be safe. Ronon and Teyla came with him, clearing away the Drones and reforming the line as it withdrew. Ronon's energy pistol barked, and Wraith died.

"Move back as quick as possible, colonel. We need the cover of the village!" Sheppard shouted over the fighting.

"I know. I'm trying, colonel Sheppard, but it's not an easy task," Hamilton said back.

Sheppard sighed. He knew he couldn't reason with the colonel.

"Just hold the line," Sheppard said, bounding off to help wherever needed.

Hamilton watched him go, and realised that Sheppard had been right. The Armour had needed support, but he should have waited to see how the battle progressed before advancing his whole force. Now his men were suffering for it.

Hamilton gritted his teeth and fought on as hard as he could.

* * *

"Sir, we can't get to them," the lieutenant who had taken the place at tactical said. "The Hives are blocking the way. We can't beam them out."

Caldwell balled his fist and smacked the edge of his command chair.

_Victory_ shook under another attack, and Caldwell could almost fell the pain his ship was in.

"Get ready to pull back..."

"New contacts! Two of them." the lieutenant asked.

"Nephilim?" Caldwell asked, his face lined with tiredness and weariness.

"No, sir!" the lieutenant voice rose in excitement, her voice getting higher. "It's the _Lorcan_ and _Frasier_!"

Caldwell sat back and thanked whoever it was who was watching over them.

"Tell Stewart not to engage in battle, but to get in and beam our guys out," he ordered sensibly, knowing even with these unexpected reinforcements, they couldn't win.

"Aye, sir,"

* * *

Ben and his team were coming back towards their lines, no sign of another Nephilim yet. They could hear Balor roaring and killing, but they couldn't see any others. Boondah's team had had no more luck yet, either.

Ben rounded a corner, and only his corporals quick tug stopped him slamming straight into the Nephilim warrior.

Keeping as quiet as possible, Ben snuck a glance at the enemy.

The Nephilim was hunched over on a piece of fallen wall, snarling and biting the corpse of one of the villagers. It tore with its vampiric teeth, crunching and gorging. The thing's wings were folded tightly against its back, its halberd leaning against its side.

Ben silently gestured for the fireteams last NLAW to be prepared. The SASR trooper lowly slid the bits into place, and prepared the rocket.

There was a harsh metallic *click*, and SASR soldiers looked up in fear. The Nephilim stopped feeding, and looked round for the source of the noise. The great wings opened, the corpse was dropped, half eaten, and grabbed its weapon. It made to take off.

"Oh, hell," Ben breathed. "Who wants' to live forever?" and he dashed out, firing. He took the creature in the chest with his first G36 burst, before spraying one of its wings.

The Nephilim swung its Halberd, but Ben ducked at the last second. He fired again, buying time for the NLAW.

The Nephilim swung again, and caught the valiant soldier with a glancing blow. It tore skin and bone in his shoulder, and sent him spinning away.

There was a boom, and the Nephilim jerked forward as a .50 round took it in the small of the back. The beast turned, and another round took it in the chest. Pale purple blood splashed to the ground.

The Nephilim roared at the Aborigine before it, and the other pathetic soldiers with him.

The roar was drowned out by the scream of an anti-tank rocket set for short detonation, and the Nephilim suddenly decorated the walls of the surrounding buildings.

"Grab the captain and get back to the main force," Boondah snapped, knowing the urgency of the situation his CO was now in.

* * *

Hamilton heard the screams as three of his injured Grenadiers were dragged away from the fighting. The colonel turned to see the massive figure of Balor striding towards them.

A Javelin team pointed their weapon at him, but the Bale King's eye flashed and they began to sob as the Cursed One showed them one of the possible fates of their lives, showing their insignificance. Everything they were and did, gone in a blink of the Universe's lifespan. They broke down and fell back.

Balor bore down on the wounded, the Grenadiers dragging them away quivering in sheer terror.

Hamilton felt something in him just snap; he swore loudly, and fired his rifle at the Nephilim. When the first rounds were ignored, he fired again, hitting the beats in the shoulders and arms.

Balor turned on him, fury in his single, evil orb. Hamilton fired again, and Balor charged the man down.

Sheppard fired his G36 into Balor's flank, as did Ronon and Teyla with her P90, but the Bale King ignored them and charged at the Brit. The ground shook with the force of the charge.

"Get my men out!" Hamilton shouted to Sheppard. The colonel dove to the side as Balor thundered by, landing heavily. He stood again and fired on the Nephilim, slowly leading the enraged beast from his troops.

Ronon and Teyla helped move the wounded back to the makeshift defensive line. Sheppard kept firing at Balor, but Hamilton was now drawing it well away from any help.

The L85 clacked dry, and Hamilton chuckled grimly as Balor drew up to his full height beside him. The beast swiped quickly, breaking Hamilton's left arm as the colonel tried to dodge. He shouted with pain, and managed to thrust the L85 at the Nephilim, burying the bayonet to the hilt in his tough flank.

Balor turned his gaze on Hamilton, but the colonel didn't flinch. He just glared hatred and sadness back at the beast. The vengeful look stalled the Nephilim for a second, surprising it, before the Cursed One recovered and tore the defiant Hamilton asunder.

"No!" Sheppard screamed, firing the last of his magazine. He began reloading, but the humm of beaming tech, and the smell of ozone surrounded him and a moment later, he, and the rest of the survivors and dead still with intact locator beacons, were on the Lorcan.

The human ships disengaged, and as quickly as they arrived, they jumped to hyperspace. They left behind them sixty two dead on the planet, and another twenty four on orbit, not to mention two Abrams and a 340. This was one fight they had most definitely lost.

* * *

"Sir, Colonel Hamilton is dead, but they have extracted the survivors and are fleeing to Atlantis," Walter reported to Landry, from the message they in turn had received.

"Damn it," Landry sighed even as Salmon and MacGregor approached.

"That was sorted far quicker than I thought. I am now interim leader of the UKGTF, until an official replacement can be made, which apparently will be me once the appropriate details are worked out." Salmon said. "It will take a few days until I am fully sorted here, but for the moment, I'm in charge,"

Landry nodded, but told Salmon the news. The major general nodded, and turned to Macgregor. "The UKGTF unit in Atlantis will need a new commander," he said. MacGregor understood at once.

"Well, we will have to get him back then,"


	4. Chapter 4

A soft knock was heard on the wall of the briefing room, Salmon, O'Neill and MacGregor turned to see Cate and Sydney dressed in black BDU's, flanked by SG1. All of them were covered in dust and dirt, Daniel's knuckles were bleeding. "Dad, ah sirs...we found it." She smiled brightly despite them grime covering her face.

"Found what?" Landry said from behind as he approached, "And would you all mind moving inside so that I can come in."

"Ah sorry sir." Cam and the others filed in, followed by the General. He found his seat while SG1 and the two agents remained standing. Jack looked a little annoyed.

"This had better be good Mitchell, we're in a bit of a situation here." He said bluntly.

"Yes we know Jack, Walter told us as we came up." Daniel answered. "But we found Lorcan's tomb, his real tomb."

"What, that business in Israel was a ...?" Mac began.

"A ruse Admiral MacGregor." Teal'c added, then remained silent.

"But how? How did you know?" Salmon asked.

"We did a bit of back checking." Cate began. "Sydney remembered coming across the name during one of her...previous exploits. Lorcan's tomb was one of the artifacts she was supposed to find, but never did, as the matter concerning that had been dealt with. So after accessing CIA files, we came up with the real location by cross referencing data and some old texts they had in their vaults."

"I hope you had permission to do that" Landry looked at the six of them, Vala grinned in her mischievous way.

"Well of course we did." She winked at him unashamedly.

"So where in the hell have you been then?" Mac opened his arms in emphasis, but his face said he seemed to already know.

"Braemore, a barrow a few miles away. We were able to beam into one chamber, then we had to do some digging to reach the inner chamber. We found his coffin, all his possessions, but no body." Daniel explained.

"So Daniel, how does this help us?" Jack asked him, looking somewhat confused.

Vala hefted her alice pack onto the table, a cloud of white dust falling onto the polished surface, she smiled meekly and reached in and produced a very old manuscript. "A gate address..." She opened the book, to reveal yellowed pages. "...and it's all in Ancient." She pointed to the flowing script.

"Well, there is good news, and bad news. So far, from all the reading I've been doing, and since we discovered and disposed of Nemain, that the Anakim were a race that fought the Nephilim; in fact, they may have even been their Progenitors," Daniel said. Jack just looked blankly at him.

"They created them." Mac muttered to Jack.

"Oh, right. I knew that." O'neill replied quickly.

"Anyway, it seems that the Anakim are pretty much extinct. But the Israeli's who threatened us, they seemed to know about the SGC and the Nephilim, and they also made reference to the Anakim. So, I trawled through the scrolls we stole…." Daniel looked up as he heard a grunt from Landry. "Err…borrowed, and I found information in regards to the creatures. They have come to Earth before, and made contact with the Brotherhood oh Survivors who fought the Nephilim in Scotland. They left instructions on how to contact them in time of greatest need."

"I would say this constitutes greatest need," Landry said. "Now, what's the bad news?"

"I can confirm we have three active Nephilim in the MW, maybe more,"

MacGregor looked at Cate and Sydney. Teal'c let a smile come to the corner of his lips.

"Would it not be a reasonable idea that we prosecute these creatures with maximum prejudice, Admiral, before they can consolidate their forces?" the big Jaffa asked.

"Yes, I do. SG-1, suit and get ready to move out. We will board the Dreadnaught and show them what for," Mac grinned. "Cate, Sydney, you are free to join us if you wish,"

"Eh, admiral?" Daniel interceded.

"Yes?"

"What about the Anakim?"

Jack sighed. "Daniel, do you actually know anything about where to find these Anakim?"

"Hello, Gate address?" Vala sat, wafting papers. Cam sniffled a snigger.

"But…you said that Lorcan's body was here…." Jack said, still not quite understanding.

"Yes," Daniel nodded patiently.

"And if his body was taken off world…." Jack continued.

"Yes,"

"…It must have been the …Anakim?"

"Well done, Jack. The way to contact them is with Lorcan of the Celts' final resting place." Daniel finished.

"Well, both are important. Split the team and do both?" Salmon suggested.

Landry nodded. "That sounds best. Daniel, Vala, Sam, suit up and get ready to head out with SG 14. You will go to this world. Will, if you take Teal'c, Cam and the Spooks, and try and track down some of these Hell-damned creatures, we'll be half sorted,"

There was a chorus of "yes, sirs" and the team moved for the door.

Salmon and MacGregor stayed at the desk, waiting for the perfectly timed knock at the door. Teal'c opened it to see Major Macara in his Lovat green dress, ready to leave.

"The admiral wanted me." Macara said.

"Indeed," Teal'c gestured Macara through, then led the others from the room.

"Welcome back," Jack muttered to Macara as he entered.

"I'm not back, I'm onl…." Macara started.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll have Siler take your kit back to Level 15." Jack let a grin come across his face, before letting himself from the room behind SG-1.

"Yes, sirs?" Macara asked, coming smartly to attention. Salmon, also in beret, threw a quick salute which Macara returned.

"The word has come in. Colonel Hamilton has been killed in action, and the Grenadiers have lost a lot of men. They are ending their tour." Salmon said.

"Hamilton was a good CO. From what I heard, he was loved by his men."

"But not by those who served alongside him on Atlantis. Not to speak ill of the dead, but Hamilton rubbed some people up the wrong way. He commanded the respect of his men, but didn't care if the US or International forces in Atlantis did as well." MacGregor said frankly. "The troops out there just aren't gelling the way they used to. There have been too many fights, not enough off-duty integration."

"In fact, the very opposite. Many officers were taking up a policy of segregation," Salmon added.

"We want a new UK officer who can bring the sides together. Sheppard has complete loyalty from the City Security and most of the Americans. Captain Ben MacGregor is also well respected by the Australians and Americans. We need an officer that all parties can get along with," MacGregor continue.

"With respect, sir, that's not me. You both know my feelings and attitudes on the subject," Macara protested.

"We do, Nathan. Attitudes that have mellowed with time. Hell, on your last tour, infighting was almost non-existent and at a front-line level we were experiencing unheard of cooperation. It doesn't matter what's going on at Home, Nate. It's what is happening out there. We want you deployed there," Salmon said.

Macara shook his head. "I want to stay and fight alongside the men who are in combat on Earth," the major said. "They are more important."

"Yes, they are. But the fighting there narrows in comparison to the threat out there!" Will said, gesturing at the ceiling, getting angry. "Nathan, do what is best for your country, I agree. And at the moment, keeping Earth safe from the Nephilim is."

"Major, I wouldn't like to make it an order that you'd only have to refuse. Go of your own free will," Salmon asked.

Macara struggled for a few moments, fighting inside himself. He couldn't think of anywhere he would rather be, than with F Company and the Atlantis Team. Yamoto, Wacca, Zelenka, Ronon, Sheppard, even McKay.

"Fine. On one condition,"

"Name it," MacGregor said earnestly.

"F Company comes back, too,"

Salmon smiled. "They are already embarked for Cheyenne mountain."

Macara chuckled, realising just how certain the two older men were that he would return.

"One question, sir. How did you manage to get command here? What about 3 brigade?"

Salmon smiled. "Buster Howes was scheduled to take over from me in early 2010. He can handle taking over early,"

Macara nodded, then saluted sharply and smartly.

"Welcome back, Major," Macgregor said as he brought his hand down.

Macara nodded, allowing a small sense of satisfaction to creep through him. He was back; he was going home.

* * *

In the space above L9X-391, a single Nephilim Hive remained, combing the wreckage, salvaging what it could. This vessel had no Nephilim aboard, only a Wraith Commander and a horde of Drones. Balor and Timrek had left to gather together what Nephilim they could in the time they had, and left the ship here to scavenge.

A hyperspace Window opened, and two great black, sleek ships appeared. These were the same ships that had entered the Milky Way seeking the Nephilim. Now they had found them.

The two vessels engaged without any hesitation. The Nephilim ships fired its spears of Blue Lightening, causing damage to shields, but not much else.

In return, green fireballs launched from the Anakim ships. These were much more than mere fire, though, and carried, amongst the strange flames, solid warheads, much like the technology the Ancients used to make their Drones.

These missiles impacted on the Hive, causing great gouts of flame and debris. The Hive shook, but continued to fight.

One Anakim ship was struck by repeated blows, and its shields failed. The ship simply maneuvered quickly and fluidly into a position behind its sister, and continued firing.

The Hive, despite its upgrades, couldn't cope with the damage it was taking. The Wraith commander ordered it to come about, and the great ship disappeared into hyperspace.

On the _Silver_ _Star_, Timral nodded with approval.

"It seems that the Wraith-Cursed One's hybrid ships are tough, but not so much that we can't hurt them," the tall, elfin figure clenched a fist. "Good. Haleth, have the Red hawk return to the Human's home Galaxy. We shall go and contact the humans here," Timral commanded.

"Very good, my lord."

Timral breathed deeply, flushed with the fire of combat. They had sat in Darkness, alone, for too long. Now they would revenge, before joining their people in their Eternal Guardianship.

* * *

Woolsey finished typing the last word of his report. It saddened him to see the final casualty list. It also saddened him to know it could be decades before anyone knew the true sacrifice these men had made.

The fifty-three Guardsmen who were killed were reported as having died when their transport Aircraft was winged by a Taliban Stinger missile. The British government had already arranged for one of their older Hercules to be flown into the ground in an area near Kandahar.

The City Security were simply killed in an incident of High Security that their families couldn't know about.

The Abrams crew had been killed by a roadside Bomb, and the Naval personnel, mostly US Navy on the _Iwo_ _Jima_, with a few Russian and Canadians, had been aboard a Destroyer that went down in the Indian Ocean to as-yet unknown circumstances.

Woolsey understood the need for these lies; he had implemented many of the protocols himself. But it still got to him how there brave men and women couldn't be lauded for their heroic sacrifices.

Woolsey hit save, and sent the document to the main buffer where the status reports for Earth were being stored.

Richard wondered if Elizabeth or Carter had ever found it this difficult, and suddenly felt yet another pang of guilt at ever having treated them so badly over their command decisions.

There was a knock at the door. Sheppard was standing there, his face grim.

"The new troops are about to arrive, sir. The SGC decided to use what little power they had in the ZPM to get them here ASAP." The Colonel said.

Richard smiled without humour. "Very good, colonel. I'll be out in a moment."

Sheppard nodded, and turned from the door way, going to Gate operations a few dozen yards away.

Woolsey stacked some papers, took a deep breath, and then went to greet the new arrivals.

Macara strode from the lift towards the Gateroom. He had his Bergen on his back, his weapon slung and his beret through his rear two belt loops.

His men were assembled in the Gateroom, and in platoons out into the corridor. They were now just waiting for him to arrive.

"Hey, Nate," a voice send, prompting Macara to turn around.

Standing in the shadows, back against a wall, was a soldier in black DUP. Macara grinned, knowing who it was.

"Vic!" the Scotsman said happily.

Major Trang walked over, smiling. Macara could see the scar tissue from his burns that crept up the left hand side of his neck, stopping just below the jawline. It was taut and had the sheen of scarring on it.

"Where the Hell have you been, man?" Trang asked, stopping short of give Macara a full hug.

"I needed to get away from it all, Vic. I couldn't handle it."

"So for R&R, you chose Helmand province. You're mad, Marine," Vic grinned. Now he hugged Macara.

"How have you been?" Nathan asked, looking Vic up and down for any evidence his wounds were still irritating him.

"Back on active duty within a couple of weeks. Then those damn Nephilim can watch out, bro!" the SF major replied. "I was going mad during rehabilitation. I miss going through the gate,"

Macara nodded. "I know what you mean."

Vic shook his head with wonderment. "Straight from A'stan to Atlantis. You are a crazy sonuva…"

"I've had a week in between. I haven't exactly just stepped off the Globemaster."

"True. I take it all those leather necks are waiting for you?" Vic gestured at the RMC.

"Aye. We're heading out now." Nathan said. "When are you heading back through?"

Vic shuffled slightly, the smile fading from his face."

"I'm not. I'm stuck in the MW for the foreseeable future." Trang said, resentment deep in his voice.

"Well, we have to give the Nephilim a chance, don't we," Macara joked. "With both of us out there, we wouldn't be fair on them!"

Trang chuckled, and took Macara's hand. "Good luck Nate,"

"You too." Macara said, before walking over to his men. Trang waited a few moments, before going to find some poor USAF security to pester.

"Welcome back, sir," an Irish voice said. Macara smiled to see Sergeant Major Quincannon at the side of the line of men, keeping order. It had been too long since Macara had seen the F Company WO.

"Good to see you, RSM. Get the men to grab their gear, we're moving out."

"Sir!" Quincannon said eagerly.

Macara walked by several of F Company that he knew well, including the sniper, Bennett, and the senior lieutenant, Hardy. All the veterans of F Coy seemed glad to see him.

Macara walked through to the Gate room, and nodded through the plate-glass to Walter, who started dialing.

* * *

Wacca stood with Zelenka and a trio of Atlantis scientists. He had overheard them moaning about the military again, as they stood on parade waiting to leave. The Rock Apes were also ready to go, but they were assembled in a room in the floor below, as there wasn't enough space.

The Remaining Grenadiers were formed up, depleted but still with massive pride in their bearing. 2 and 7 Coy stood at ease, waiting for their replacements.

"Any idea who the Brits are sending in their place?" Radek asked the Australian WO as he approached.

"Not a clue, mate. They didn't send word in advance, this time." Wacca replied. He waited eagerly to see what new Unit was joining them. Black Watch maybe? Riflemen?

Zelenka muttered in Czech, drawing a quizzical look from Wacca.

"What now?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just wondering when we're going to start getting mobs of scientists through every six months"

Wacca laughed out loud at the little scientists indignation. "You never know, mate. The way this is going, we might have to start putting you lot on the front line," the WO joked. Zelenka didn't laugh.

"Really?" he asked, slightly horrified.

Wacca just chuckled again, watching the gate

Sheppard stood with Ronon and Teyla, who was cradling Torren. McKay was at a work station behind them grumbling about wanting lunch.

"Well, just go then!" Ronon snapped.

"Well, erm...I'm curious. I just want to see who the Brits are sending,"

"Since when did Earth's military interest you, Rodney," Teyla asked politely,

"I…well…"

"He just wants to know what new equipment they have sent through for him," Sheppard threw over his shoulder.

"Ah," Teyla said knowingly, shushing a little cry from Torren.

The Gate flared into life. The shield went up, containing the "kawoosh", and then the first soldiers stepped through.

"Marines," Wacca said with a little disappointment. "I thought they had given up on the GTF?"

Zelenka just shook his head. "No new ladies either. Never mind,"

Wacca looked round in surprise, before titling his head and straight up bellowing with laughter.

* * *

"Marines," Sheppard stated. "Again."

F Company came through the gate. In a few moments, they were all assembled, and the last figure emerged.

Macara looked around. He marched smartly over to Captain Petersen, as acting CO of the Grenadier unit, and saluted him. "You stand relieved, captain."

"Thank you, major. The post is yours," Petersen said. The Gate dialed Earth, and the captain led his proud, smart unit through, back to the SGC.

"Oh, great. He's back," McKay muttered as the Grenadier left. "Brilliant." He said, walking away to find lunch. Ronon walked down to the stairs, closely followed by Teyla and Sheppard as the Rock Apes filed into the Gateroom.

Sqn Leader Dale approached Macara as the Grenadiers left.

"Your men are to remain here, Sqn Ld," Macara said politely. "I have new orders for both of us," he handed over a data slate.

"Major. It's damned good to see you." Sheppard offered his hand. Macara took it.

"Glad to be back, sir," he said straight away, the 'sir' surprising Sheppard a little as it was said with genuine respect, no sarcasm this time.

Ronon nodded a curt greeting. Teyla smiled and held up Torren. Macara walked over and looked down.

"He's gotten big!" the major tickled the child nose, causing a gurgling laugh. Teyla smiled.

"It is good to see you again, major Macara."

"Sergeant major, fall the men out!" Hardy's voice came from behind. That was followed by a huge voice as Quincannon let the RMC know what-for.

"You know where to go. Move out!"

Macara looked at Sheppard.

"I'll drop my kit then come for a debriefing, sir,"

"No problem, Nathan. See you in a few."

Macara looked round, a smile creeping on his face. He let the mood of the Atlantis expedition filter into him again.

It was good to be back, Macara thought. Back home.

* * *

The Ha'tak came out of hyperspace. It was trailing debris and fire, and only some decks had air or power. The vessel had served well under the mismatched upgrades that Frenzy had placed upon it, but now, after months in the Galactic void, it was through.

Nemain guided what was left of the ship to the nearest world, what was left of the sensors reporting a Stargate.

The Ha'tak plummeted into the atmosphere, layer upon layer of hull peeling in the heat of entry. As it passed into the atmosphere and slowed, larger chunks began to break off.

It plunged earthward, getting closer and closer to destruction.

As it did, a lithe, black shape sped away from it, before opening black, leathery wings and gracefully soaring to the ground.


	5. Chapter 5

Daniel looked upon the tomb. This was it. This was definitely, finally, the resting place of Lorcan.

SG14 were guarding the entrances to this tomb. Sam was looking around for any signs of technology. Vala was…well, being Vala.

"Come on Daniel, you've found it now! Tell us what's going on!" she whined. Daniel breathed deeply for a moment, before, turning round.

"Go. Away."

Vala huffed, petted her lip, then skipped over to Sam. Daniel shook his head and began to decipher what was written.

One of the languages was very similar to Hebrew, in fact so similar it didn't need much effort to read what it said.

The other boon was the later addition of a translation in Ancient.

Daniel started muttering to himself as he read. Sam came over, Vala keeping Carter between her and, as she whispered, the 'big meanie'.

"What is it?"

"I don't quite know." Daniel replied. There was an intake of breath that Daniel mentally associated with some disappointed sighs. He had led them all the way here, built it up, and now he had absolutely nothing…. Suddenly, Daniel clicked his fingers. "I've got it. It says here, after Lorcan was interred in Jerusalem, the Anakim came. They brought the body here. 'So great a Warrior,' this says 'could not be left to wither away in the ages.' They used some technology that they and the Ancients had developed," Daniel said. That was all Vala could take.

"They? Who, these Anakim? They worked with the Ancients?"

"Shh," Sam said. "Maybe if you listen he'll get to that part,"

Jackson smiled his thanks at Carter and continued.

"They found a way to help the consciousness of those close to death live on, if the person had been unable to attain ascension. It allowed a sort of….reincarnation into the mind of another person of similar enough genetic and spiritual make-up. It would imprint this 'spirit' into the host and make them as one. The echo of the dead would live on in the chosen person, until both could achieve Ascension, becoming the one mind." Daniel said.

"Any names?" Sam asked.

"The only ones I can make out are Nezrah, of the Anakim, and Agathon, of the Ancients. They sacrificed their ability to ascend to perfect this technology. Nezrah was a scientist, and Agathon a Warrior. Nezrah used Agathon's strength of mind as a test subject. It worked, and they used it again on Lorcan." Daniel finished.

"It doesn't say who Lorcan inhabits?"

"No," Daniel said simply.

They heard a crunch as the side of the tomb fell away. Vala stood looking guilty, holding a lump of finely sculpted and inscribed stone. A pile of destroyed pieces lay at the tomb-raider's feet.

"Oops."

"What have you done," Daniel sighed. He struggled to stop his face going red and blowing up at the woman.

"She's found communication stones," Carter said in surprise. Where the body should have been, was another side to the tomb. It had a false side that had been hiding the stones.

"See? I did goo-ood." Vala said, biting her bottom lip. She twisted left-to-right at the waist, hands behind her baqck in an attempt to look cute and innocent. Jackson just muttered as he went over.

There were two stones, and a stone terminal.

"Two?" Carter stated.

"I guess one contacts the Anakim, then," Daniel said. "The message on the tomb says it houses the way to find them,"

"But what about the second?" Vala asked.

Daniel made a 'pfft' sound, blowing air through his lips. "I honestly have no idea…."

Jackson reached for the stones, made a quiet 'eenie meenie' cadence and then picked one, placing it on the terminal.

The next moment he collapsed.

* * *

"What…where…" Jackson said. He was in an Ancient structure, one that looked fairly similar to Atlantis. He looked around, trying to get his bearings.

"Ah, what," he voiced, with a start. The voice had an accent to it, an Earth accent. Almost…Glaswegian?

Daniel looked down and saw DPMs, and a major's rank slide.

Daniel ran the body over to the nearest piece of reflective material and looked at who was staring back.

"Oh. This is a surprise,"

* * *

Daniel sat up, and blinked at Vala. He shut his eyes in surprise and then looked again. Still Vala. He then looked at Carter, and spoke in shock. "Colonel Carter, is that you, ma'am?"

"Jackson, are you…okay?" Vala asked, confused. Carter, much quicker on the uptake, bustled Vala out the way.

"Yes, it's me. Who is this? It's obviously not Daniel, who is in there?" she asked.

"Whoa…I must have hit my head or something….this is one weird-arse dream…." The sentence, although spoken with Daniels vocal chords, definitely had an inflection on it, spoken the way someone else would.

"You haven't. We have used an Ancient Stone Communication device. Daniel Jackson will be in your body." Carter said slowly.

"Then what the Hell am I doing here?" Jackson said. Carter sighed with frustration, but made an educated guess that it was a soldier who was in Daniel's body.

"Name and rank, now," she said with false harshness, in order to provoke the desired response.

"Macara, Nathan. Major, Royal Marines Commando," the voice said in surprise. "Want my serial number?"

"I think I know which stone was which…." Carter whistled, eyes wide.

* * *

Ben rubbed the wound he received from the Nephilim. The skin had been cold for a while now, and the feeling was slowly draining form his shoulder.  
He hadn't said anything to anyone, simply getting it bound by a corpsman, not even bothering to see Keller.  
And now, after a week, the grey, pallid colour had gone from the shoulder to the elbow, and was slowly creeping up his neck.  
The captain had thought about going to the Infirmary, but he didn't want to be taken off active duty.  
Even as Ben thought about the injury, he felt a stab of pain, and the cold sensation spread. The captain gave it another rub, and walked round the corner.  
There, he saw the Marine major his dad had spoken of; Macara, wasn't it? The major was staring at his own reflection, touching his face.  
"Oh. This is a surprise." He heard the Scotsman say. The major turned and looked at hm.  
"Oh, hi there. Tell me, am I on Atlantis?"  
Ben frowned. "Erm...yes, sir."  
Macara straightened his back slightly. "Do I...know you?"  
"You met me this afternoon, sir,"  
"No...I wasn't...I mean, you remind me of someone." Macara suddenly dropped his mouth and gasped. "Oh, right! Sorry, I look like Major Macara, don't I?"  
Ben nodded mutely, suspicion on his face.  
"I'm Daniel Jackson. I used an Ancient communication stone, and here I am!"  
Ben nodded slowly. He knew about the stones. But was this a case of their use, or had Macara finally cracked?  
Macara snapped his fingers, and propped up a pair of glasses he wasn't even wearing, in a very Daniel-esque manner.  
"Are you related to Admiral McGregor?" Daniel asked. Ben nodded.  
"I'm his son."  
"Oh! Nice to meet you!" Daniel/Macara reached out to shake his hand. Before Ben could move, Macara's eyes rolled back and he collapsed.  
Ben grabbed his radio and called for a medic, before kneeling beside the major.

* * *

Daniel and Macara were facing each other, completely naked, in a white haze. Daniel tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn't let him. Macara appeared to be trying, too.  
Both men looked around them. There was nothing but this pale haze.  
A figure, in wondrous, white robes, approached. This being was tall, maybe seven feet, and slim, with very pallid skin. Macara tensed, at first, fearing this was a Nephilim. But there was no malice, no evil.  
"Nezrah," Daniel said aloud, suddenly. His mouth, however, did not open. "Wait...I meant to think that..." he said next.  
"I am Nezrah..." the Anakim said. "And I bid a warning to you, Daniel Jackson. Do not try and understand the technology at work with Nathan Macara," the Anakim, robes flowing, gestured at Macara. "You risk Lorcan's ascension if you do. Agathon and I did not toil for you to disrupt this process,"  
Daniel spoke again, though his mouth did not move. "We wouldn't do anything to harm the consciousness of Lorcan, only understand what has gone on..."  
"And in that attempt, Daniel Jackson, you would destroy the link. It is far more fragile than you think. It would be severed by any surgery, hypnosis or therapy that you know of. Also, unlocking the spirit of the great Warrior in Nathan Macara's mind without preparation could cause unknown harm to him himself."  
Daniel didn't speak, just nodded.  
"Good. You may not remember your time with us, but you know how important any message we give you is, as we risk punishment for contacting you."  
Daniel nodded again. Macara looked over, mouth moving, nothing coming out. Daniel turned and thought a sentence, which issued forth again as if he had given them voice.  
"Think, Macara, don't talk."  
"I have a hard enough time talking, normally," Macara said in semi-jest. He started when his thoughts came out in speech.

Nezrah cocked his noble head, and turned to face Macara. "Do not fear, Son of Lorcan. You will remember nothing of this, if for no other reason than your own safety."

"Now that is crazy. You can't wipe my memory! Tell me, Nezrah, why me? What have I done that made Lorcan join me?"  
"Simply, you were born. Now, return to your world. Heed my warning, Daniel. Do not interfere."  
Daniel replied silently. Macara tried to talk, to think, but Nezrah ignored him.  
The haze faded, and Macara blacked out.

* * *

"Sam?" Daniel breathed. He looked round.  
"Is that you back?" Vala asked, not quite sure what to believe.  
"Yes, it's me. You'll never guess who I was..."  
"Major Macara. Yes, we know. He swapped with you, remember?" Sam smiled gently.  
"Ah, yes." Daniel smiled.  
"We need to get out of here with the stones and contact the Anakim. And to tell someone about Macara. We need to investigate this.  
"No!" Daniel blurted out.  
"What do you mean, no?" Carter asked sternly. "We need the Anakim."  
"No, not 'no' to contacting them. To Macara being Lorcan," Daniel said quickly.  
"Daniel, we need to help him, and find out what this Lorcan knows," Vala said.  
"Trust me. We have to leave it be,"  
"We can't..." Carter began.  
"Yes, we can." Jackson said back, just as sternly, and then began to explain what had just happened.

* * *

"What do you mean, you cannot find them?" Timrek hissed dangerously.

"They are shielded from her sight," Uaithne replied coolly, gesturing at the slowly recovering Cerridwen sprawled on the ship's deck. "Her gaze cannot seem to penetrate their shelter."

"Can you find the spot where you can sense nothing, then? Would that not provide the same advantage, finding the place where you cannot penetrate?" Creidhne asked.

Uaithne issued a sigh, before continuing. "Normally, Librarian, you would be completely right. But this shroud, this veil of secrecy, is not as one of our making. I cannot sense them, or the place they are missing form. It is as if Cerridwen's tendrils of thought are being deflected. We cannot locate them."

Timrek snarled, and grabbed the Stunted one by the throat.

"Well, then, look harder. Find them, Uaithne, or during the next battle, you will be at the front, leading the troops."

Timrek dropped the gagging Fallen, and turned to Creidhne. She extended her wings partially, as if stretching, then spoke to her Librarian.

"Assemble the forces on this ship, and the others. I wish to address them,"

"Yes, mistress."

* * *

The medical team wheeled Macara into the infirmary, Ben close alongside. Teyla ran over, having heard the alarm first. Doctors Keller and Anne MacGregor were with her, already putting their white coats on.  
"What happened?" Keller asked.  
"He claimed to be Doctor Jackson using the stones, then he just...collapsed..." Ben said. Even as he said it, he felt his own head spinning. He noticed he couldn't feel his arm at all now.  
"Okay, Captain. Thank you," Keller said. Anne just smiled wanly at Ben.  
"Do you think it really was Daniel Jackson?" Teyla muttered from Ben's side. Ben didn't answer, head lolling, before the SASR captain crumpled to the floor.  
"Doctor Macgregor!" Teyla called in worry.

* * *

Timrek surveyed her remaining forces. Whilst she had gone out to hunt for more Warriors, some mysterious ships had dropped into orbit around the planet where they had defeated the humans. This did not bode well, as there was no wreckage or debris.

Surely it couldn't be….?

Before Timrek were arrayed a massive army. Some three thousand Wraith Drones, seven Nephilim Warriors, Uaithne and Cerridwen, Creidhne, Mertaine and Balor. But she had lost Lerate and five Warriors to the humans. This was not acceptable. At least, on the other Hives and cruisers, she had thousands more Drones. But the Nephilim here were the last.

"We have suffered too many deaths to these…these…vermin!" she bellowed in barely controllable rage. Wraith Major's, some of the most fearless creatures in this Galaxy, quailed beneath her gaze. "They strike at us, they attack us with their flea bites, and still they have come out on top numerous times. Even when we have defeated them, they have managed to draw blood before they yield! We cannot stand for this anymore! We will find them, and attack them. We will destroy them at their heart!"

The assembled troops cheered with throaty growls. The Nephilim Warriors flexed their wings open and closed, causing small flurries of secondary feathers to flutter around.

"But, we cannot simply attack them; they are strong, and would do considerable damage before we wiped them out. We must weaken them, draw them away. Strike their allies," she mused now. "Go to your posts, and prepare for war!"

Again the cheers, and the army dispersed.

Timrek turned to her Nephilim cohorts. Balor was already thundering away, having no time for what she had to say.

"Uaithne, have you had any luck breaking their concealment?"

"No, mistress"

"We must take other steps to find them, then. Someone who can lead us to them. Find the ones they call the "Travelers"!" Timrek hissed. The Stunted One nodded, and turned to Cerridwen.

* * *

Ben woke to see Nathan Macara beside him in another bed. Although he wasn't injured, Jennifer and Anne decided to keep the Marine there for observation, the use of the stones seemed to have an adverse effect on him. He just smiled at the SASR Captain with a "You're ok now" smile.

"Doctor MacGregor, Jennifer, he's awake." She said softly, but stayed with him. The two doctors came over and his mother looked at him with a look that spelt trouble, but considering his condition, after having more than fifty sutures in his body, she refrained from giving him a lecture. She kissed him lightly and held his other hand briefly before moving over to Macara. John Sheppard and Ronon stood by the end of Ben's bed, the big Satedan grinned at him.

"Man you are either totally insane, or very brave." Ronon said in his deep voice.

"He's an Australian, what would you expect Ronon." John laughed. "Glad to see you awake though Captain, you had the doctors worried there for a while." He shot his friend a knowing glance.

A light conversation started around the bed and Anne looked briefly over her shoulder, they would be occupied for some time, which was all she needed. She bent to Nate's ear. "You can get up now Nathan, you've not been undressed, so I want you to come with me." She stood back as he lifted the coverings and swung his legs aside and stood, still a tad wobbly but he had strong limbs from years of Marine training. He followed the doctor into Keller's private office. Anne waited for him to enter, and then closed and sealed the door. Nate stood there looking confused, until Anne bid him to sit, which for some reason he did, his own body seeming to ignore hisinstructions.

Anne went and stood directly in front of the Marine, placing her hands lightly on his head, held it there for a moment and finally as she lifted them away, said to him softly. "Hello Lorcan, it's been a very long time hasn't it?"

She made a motion with her hand, and the flickering lights on the security cameras went dead.

Nathan's voice changed somewhat when he spoke, after shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. He looked hard at the white gowned woman, he peered intently at her green eyes. "Ina...Inarin , is that you? You're a wee bit older than I remember, but I'll never forget those eyes. Where...where am I, the last I remember I was ..."

"Dying. Yes you did die, Agathon tried in vain to save you. I lost him then as well, but as you know he's like a tree that always grows back. He'll be pleased to see you, for many things have come to pass and many changes have happened in the galaxy. It's the twenty first century now and that's why you're here." She went and took Keller's chair and wheeled it over near him. "They're back." It wasn't necessary to say who, he understood.

"I see, so I'm inhabiting someone's body, am I now?" He just had to ask, even though he was now aware of his host's memories.  
"Yes, but not just anyone's Lorcan. Major Nathan Macara is your ancestor, that's why our friends chose him for your spirit to blend with. He is the very image of you, the first in a very many years."

"Twenty first century you say lass, that is a bloody long time. Tell me all."

* * *

Uaithne and Cerridwen were in their pre-made circle, runes and symbols dubbed on the floor of the chamber in the blood of human captives. The female Nephilim swayed, eyes closed, arms above her head and stretched, wings unfurled behind them. Before her stood the Stunted One, veritably screaming words in their language, words that would have caused physical pain in a human. Not from the volume, but from their hideous origins and meanings.

Timrek watched this, and even she felt the brief stirrings of unease in her breast as Cerridwen's swaying became trashing, her limbs moving at speeds and angles that even a Nephilim's should not.

This lasted several heart beats more, but seemed to last years in Timrek's mind.

Then an abrupt silence fell over them, and Cerridwen breathed deeply before whispering.

"I have found them"

* * *

"We need to defeat them," Inarin said simply. "If they find Atlantis, ours hopes will be lost. They could not win a full scale battle of that sort."

"How have they not found them? They possessed great powers of witchery," Lorcan asked. Inarin smiled slightly at the old Warrior's arcane words.

"Agathon has clouded the minds of their Seeker. He still has power over them, in some ways. He is keeping Atlantis sheltered from their gaze. All that remains is for us to help bring around their defeat."

"And I can do this how? They already killed me once…." Lorcan replied evenly.

"We need to contact the Anakim. We could trust the Human Daniel Jackson to do this, maybe, but time is of the essence,"

Lorcan looked around the room. "This truly is the stuff of dreams. I had never thought to see anything so wonderful,"

"This is the work of my people; one of our cities. But your own kind have made extraordinary advances, too. You should be proud of them," Inarin replied.

Lorcan shook Macara's head. "No. They have also done horrible things to each other. This Nathan's memories, they are full of history, lass, learned of great battles where tens of thousands died in a single day, weapons that can kills millions in a blow. They do not care for the Gods nor the land."

"That is true, Lord Lorcan, but were the Anakim not the same? The Alterans?"

"Aye, maybe." Lorcan said, not entirely convinced of his species deserving to be saved. So much destruction – animals hunted to extinction without their remains being utilised and their spirits thanked, a lack of honour amidst people who cared not for one another, entire forests destroyed to make a few buildings. And of course the mutual destruction of other human life. Lorcan had been a warrior, at times a brutal one, but he had never killed more than he had too, and whenever possible had tried to resolve conflict around the feasting table. He was rare in that way amongst even his own contemporaries, not to mention those he came after him.

Inarin seems to sense his thoughts, his despondency radiating like a shadow. This was not the Lorcan she had known. He had lost his fire, his will to fight and triumph. She smiled sadly, and in turn seeming to sense her pity, Lorcan quickly changed the subject.

"Tell me, will this one remember any of this?"

Inarin shook Anne's head. "Not yet. He has not been made aware yet, and should not be until we can make the transition less…traumatising." Inarin replied. "It is the same for me; my bond remains hidden from the bearer of this body."

"So, if he finds out we're sharing a soul…" Lorcan began

"Consciousness, Lord. Not a soul." Inarin corrected.

"Whatever name you have, if he finds out too soon, we will both die?"

"Yes,"

"Oh. Not quite the idea of the afterlife I had in mind. And you must stop calling me lord, Lady. I am lord of nothing anymore. I am simply the revenant of Lorcan."

Inarin leaned forward, kissing his forehead gently. A sense of sudden wellbeing and positivity coursed through Lorca's weary persona, all thoughts of inevitable defeat and the inexorable doom of humanity leaving him. "You are far more than either those things, Lord Lorcan. You will fight, we shall triumph and be at peace amongst our friends who have gone on to a better place."

"You are quite a woman, my lady" Lorcan smiled. Inarin returned the gesture honestly and openly.

"Now, we must let the mind of this one rest. He has a strong mind, no doubt, but even the strongest cannot cope with the shock of the Anakim stones. I shall continue this further, at another time, Lord," Inarin said. She placed a hand on Macara's forehead, and then led him back to the main infirmary.

"Ma'am, he's not improving," one of the medics said to Keller. Keller threw a look over her shoulder to where Anne Macgregor was helping Macara back to his bed. The major looked confused, as if he had no idea that he had just left the room with Anne. Anne herself, after helping Macara down, also looked slightly puzzled, as if she had just lost the last five minutes of her life and didn't know how.

Keller was too busy to think on such things, however. She and the other medic were standing with Ben, whose wound was worsening. The skin was now a pale grey, and the coloration was spreading.

"Nothing we are doing is working!" Keller hissed.

Anne wandered over, Keller's voice louder than she thought it was.

"He's getting worse, isn't he," Anne asked, barely able to conceal the worry on her face.

"Yes. I've tried him on antivirals, antibiotics, anything I can think of and it's not working. I've repaired the injury itself, but the rest of him is just withering away,"

"But…what about Lorelle's herbs?" Anne asked, looking at the young Pegasus native. Lorelle just looked down

"Nothing is working. Only the celadin herb had any effect, and it merely slowed the onset,"

Anne rubbed her face with her hands, when a thought struck her.

"The Anakim. They can save him."

"But how? And how do we find them?" Keller asked, confused, and worried about Anne's frame of mind.

"Jackson." Anne said simply.


	6. Chapter 6

**In the Milky Way….**

"But admiral!" Daniel tried again. "You should have let us return to the SGC! I need to use these stones!"

"And we know there is a Nephilim ship, full of converted Lucians, and I want your expertise!" MacGregor replied. "Can't you use the materials we have here?"

Sam mused for a moment. "Well, if you let us tie into one of the generators, we could maybe portion out the power required to active the stone-grid…"

"Get to it then, colonel,"

Cate smiled as Daniel and Sam hurried away.

"How do you think this will turn out?"

"What do you mean?" The Admiral looked over at his daughter. "This mission, or the whole situation?"

Cate thought for a moment…."Well, both, actually."

Mac smiled fondly. "Well, the Ha'tak may have been upgraded by now, but I think we will be able to take it pretty easily. It's not a Hive or anything,"

"Do you think we can beat them?" Cate asked. "They seem to be so far ahead of us, and now they are popping up everywhere,"

"The SGC has beaten everything thrown at them so far. Now, this may be my first major role since I arrived, but I'm sure I can live up to the rep. We have more ships, troops and funding than ever before. The Nephilim are in limited numbers. I think we'll do fine."

Cate nodded; her father just had this air about him that everything would be okay. He possessed an almost ageless quality, like he would last forever.

As Mac started to leave the ready room to return to the bridge, Cate hugged him suddenly, just like she had when she was a kid.

"Watch over us, dad,"

Mac shushed her, but hugged back none-the-less.

"Of course I will. No matter what it takes."

* * *

Macara got off the bed and threw his DPMs back on before walking over to Ben's side. The captain was awake again, but was grimacing in pain.

"How are you holding up, captain?"

"With difficulty, sir," Ben replied

"Forget the titles in here. We'll find a way to help you, Ben. Lorelle is amazing with her knowledge, and you have Keller and your mum too. I think they're even going to drag Beckett back in from his good will missions to help,"

"That's bad triage, Major, and you know it," Ben replied. "I'm a lost cause, and wasting so many resources on me takes away from the rest of the team,"

"They obviously think you're worth the effort. And if you are anything like your dad, I can see why they think that," Macara said, patting Ben on his good shoulder. "We'll find the Anakim."

"Not in time," Ben replied. "I don't mind dying in a noble cause, but I want to see my wife and kids again,"

"Stop talking like that. Fight what's happening. Resist what it's doing to you," Macara replied, hating to see such an obviously tough soldier being so fatalistic.

Before Ben could speak, the tannoy went off.

"_Colonel Sheppard to gate control. We have inbound ship. Sheppard to the gate room,_"

Macara nodded to Ben, and dashed from the room as best his leg would allow.

"Who is it?" Sheppard asked. He had only gotten half way from the infirmary to his quarters when he was called back. Ronon was with him, and Teyla had come in a moment later.

"No idea, sir. They're not squawking I.D, and we can't get a match on the hull pattern," the Canadian corporal at the sensors replied.

"Run the scans again, see what you get. And put an image on the screen," Sheppard ordered.

Woolsey appeared with McKay and Zelenka, who had been running him through some power upgrades they had planned. That had obviously turned into a bickering match with the bewildered Richard simply tuning them out.

"Who is it, colonel?" the IOA suit asked.

"Trying to find out, sir,"

The Canadian ran the scans, and as the group was waiting, Sqd Leader Dale and Major Macara entered too.

"This a social function now?" McKay asked sarcastically as Gate Ops rather quickly filled with personnel.

"Shut up, Rodney," Sheppard bit back.

"No, Doctor McKay is right. Major Macara, Colonel Sheppard, Teyla, stay. Rodney, you too. Everyone else, wait outside," Woolsey said firmly. It was one of the first times he had issued an order that everyone felt they should obey, such was the power in his voice. The talk Sheppard had with him must have helped.

They all left, Ronon the most reluctant, and stood on one of the balconies overlooking the gate. Zelenka did gripe a little that McKay got to stay, but the threat of being thrown over the railings by Ronon put paid to that idea.

"The pattern is similar to the Ancient Aurora class, sirs," the Canadian corporal said after a moment, the scan running complete. "But she is twenty percent bigger, and displaces almost twice as much."

The image that popped up on the Cities computer didn't not label the vessel, did not seem to even know it, but came up with the craft outlined in green, as if it intrinsically knew it was a friend.

"What does that mean?" Macara asked.

"That it's not here to kill us, maybe?" Rodney snapped cynically.

"I swear, McKay, keep it up and I will hit you," Macara snarled. McKay sneered back, his arms folded as he stood next to Sheppard. The colonel raised his hands in a "none of my concern" sort of way. Rodney's face fell, his bluster fading, as Macara looked at him with a predatory gaze.

"Gentlemen!" Woolsey shouted, gaining all their attentions. "Enough!"

"It's holding station, fairly distant from the planet, sir," the corporal said.

"Shields up, get someone in the drone chair and prepare to launch the _Frasier_ from her pier," Sheppard ordered.

"Imagine that. The enemy turns up the moment our strongest ships are away," Macara said snidely.

"How is that _our_ fault?" McKay whined.

"The gate is Activating, sir!" Chuck called suddenly.

"And IDC?"

"We don't have any teams out sir, so it can only be Athosians, or the enemy,"

Macara turned straight away. "Squadron Leader! Get teams here now!"

"Yes, major," Dale replied, hitting his mic.

"Raise the shield," Sheppard said to Chuck, drawing his own side arm. City security also turned up, P90's ready. One offered his side arm to Macara, who took it.

"Incoming message, sir," Chuck said again. "Verbal only."

"Put it on speaker, Woolsey replied.

They waited for a moment, with baited breath. Then the message began.

"_This is Timral, of the Silver Star. Lower your gate shield and allow us access, please. We have a message of the upmost urgency._"

"I am colonel Sheppard of the USAF. Tell us, and we'll think about it," Sheppard replied.

"They're speaking English," Macara muttered. "They must have been monitoring us,"

"The city is translating for us," McKay replied, but not cheekily. Macara with a gun was not a man with whom to mess.

"_Colonel, you should know, we are the Anakim, and we shall enter the city, with or without your consent,_"

"Sir!" Chuck cried. "The gate shield has shut down!"

"What?" Sheppard asked in surprise. "Ready arms!" he bellowed, and there was a clatter as actions were cocked and weapons aimed. "Fire on my order only!"

Two figures stepped through the wormhole, with large, oval shields and long, white swords. They were also well over seven foot tall, and slim. They formed up around the gate, but made no aggressive moves.

Two more figures stepped through. They were as tall as the warriors, and were exquisite in both garb and appearance, and one had…wings.

"Fire!" Sheppard barked. Two dozen fingers squeezed gently on to two dozen triggers.

"STOP!" the alien's voice boomed. It had such power, both with a hint of natural command yet obviously hidden anger, that no one could bring themselves to. "Is this how the children of the Alterans welcome their allies?" the thing asked. In English.

"Told you so," Macara muttered to McKay, who just made a sarcastic smile in return.

"Ease!" Sheppard called, and the weapons were lowered. Just.

"What do you want? Who are you?" Woolsey found the courage to ask.

"We? We are your saviours. We are the Anakim,"

* * *

"That's it! I've got it!" Sam said. "Go for it Daniel."

It had only taken a few hours, but Carter had managed to re-adjust the flow from one of the Naquadah gen's to activate the terminal without making it explode.

Jackson nodded, and placed the stone on the terminal.

Jackson awoke suddenly, in a room much like the briefing room in Atlantis. Sat there, looking at him, were Sheppard, Woolsey, McKay, Macara….and an alien, who looked very similar to the Nephilim.

"I'm a little late, aren't I?" Daniel asked out loud. Everyone started; what was going on.

Only the alien spoke. "Yes, Daniel Jackson, you are. Now, if I could kindly get Haleth back, we can begin speaking to your leaders here in Atlantis,"

"Oh, yes, of course. But…won't he need to remove the stone?"

"Our stones work slightly differently from those of your ancestors. Simply concentrate on your location," the one named Timral replied.

"Oh…okay…"

Jackson was once again looking at Carter.

"We were a little late, this time," she smiled at him.

"I'll say," Jackson replied. "Let's tell Will,"

"That's admiral Macgregor," Sam smiled. "It took me long enough to get permission to call him that, you earn it." She laughed.

The pair left the room, and went to find Macgregor and Cate.

* * *

"My apologies," Timral said. "Let us continue,"

In the briefing room sat a whole amalgam of authorities. There was Woolsey as expedition leader, Sheppard as military commander, Macara as UKGTF representative, Teyla for the Athosians and other races of Pegasus, McKay and Zelenka for the sciences (mainly because Zelenka would not let Rodney go in alone,), Yamato as Security chief, and Captain Connolly, for the US forces.

"So, how did you get in?" Sheppard went straight to the point. Timral smiled, something that seemed quite surreal on the slim alien.

"We shared technology with the Alterans. We have gates on all our ships, and we know how to bypass Gate Shields, as you call them." Haleth replied for the leader of the Anakim.

"I thought you had all ascended?" McKay asked next, one of the most pertinent questions.

"No, Doctor McKay. Some of us, on two of our battleships, stayed to keep watch on the Cursed ones. Once we defeated…."

"Why did no one tell me?" Anne burst in a fit of rage. The Anakim guards crouched to the attack, but Timral gestured them to stand easy. Sheppard grabbed Anne, trying to calm her.

"My son…was wounded by the Nephilim…please sir, I need your help,"

Timral looked over, head cocked. "How long ago? Quick, tell me. The longer he has been wounded, the less chance there is that we can save him."

"Only a week or so,"

"And you have not healed him yourselves?" Haleth asked, bemused. "At this stage, it is relatively easy to stem the effects. With your permission, lord?" Haleth looked at his commander, who nodded.

The tall alien walked to Anne, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and led her away, two Security troopers and one Anakim guard following.

"You're race has a curious habit of asking questions, but not listening for an answer," Timral said, part amused, part annoyed. "Now, as I was saying, once we defeated the Dark Ones, we had fought such a war that had brought their race to the brink of extinction. The Alterans were just beginning to arrive here, and we did not want them to fear us, and we did not want to be responsible for the destruction of our kin. So we imprisoned the survivors for all time. What was left of our own species found that the Alterans also knew of Accession, so we worked together on ways to make this easier to achieve," Timral stared intently at Macara, as if he could see inside his mind. "Some of our kind, and theirs, found a way to imprint consciousness's into another host, extending the span of the original and helping both to ascend. We also made other discoveries," Timral said, looking away from the major.

"Such as?" McKay asked curious.

"The fact our entire species was ready to ascend. And that we did, taking many Alterans with us, the rest striving to join us. Only myself and a few hundred Anakim remained, with our ships, to watch over the Cursed ones,"

"But…you vould have been in stasis for much longer than your bodies could take!" Zelenka exclaimed.

"Doctor, we could live for several thousand years naturally. With the use of our own stasis chambers, which were more advanced than the Alterans, we were able to endure. We are all close to the end of our lives, all within a few hundred years, but it is enough to do the job that is required,"

"You are here to help us?"

"Yes, we are. We will either imprison the Nephilim again, or destroy them." Timral growled slightly, his eyes lighting up with passion. "But we will not allow them to destroy these galaxies,"

The mood in the room was one of confusion, but also now of steely determination.

"This is…wonderful news!" Woolsey said. "What do you need of us?"

"Show me your capabilities, and we will make a plan of action," Timral said.

Macara watched the gathered worthies stand, following Woolsey and Timral from the room. Deep down, in the back of his head, he was sure he'd seen that creature before, and the major had no idea why…..

* * *

Macara sat in his quarters. The meeting with the Anakim had gone on for several hours, and all the command staff felt drained. Macara had headed back to catch some sleep, but found it illusive.

The major sat on his bed, back against the wall, holding a photo he had found down behind the bed. In his absence, no one had reoccupied this particular room; somehow, it seemed to amplify the sounds of the sea, far more than any other room. No one could get a decent night's sleep, except Macara. He loved the sound.

As for the picture, he had thought it lost for long enough now. It must have slipped down between the bed and the wall, in the tiny, tight space between the two. It was sheer luck that Macara had found it again.

In the photo stood Macara, another two Marine captains, a lieutenant, and Gaje Rai. The five were in Helmand province.

The tall, slim blond on the left was Captain Jordan Tomas, captain D Company 42 Commando. Beside him were Macara, newly minted Captain, then Gaje, then the stocky figure of lieutenant Dan Brooks, Macara's 2IC, and finally tall, well-muscled, dirty blonde that was John McGarry, captain G Coy, 45 Commando.

Jordan Tomas was killed by an IED in Afghanistan. He was the first.

Jordan, Nathan and John had gone through Lympstone together. John took it the worst. Macara, whilst upset, had kept it together.

Next was Lieutenant Brooks. He had taken a sniper's bullet that was aimed for Macara. The poor lad had simply walked up to Macara to ask him about unit disposition. Dan had been well liked by the Marines as well as the officers. No one who was around him could stay in a bad mood for long.

After that, when 42 and 45 came home, Macara and John got the call for the UKGTF.

**2005…..**

The black sedan pulled up to the Gates of the Cheyenne mountain complex. Security Forces guards checked the passengers details, then ushered the vehicle through. The sedan pulled up inside the tunnel, and two USAF sergeants rushed to open the doors.

Three men in "Lovat" green No.2 Service dress, only one step away from Full Ceremonial dress, stepped out. They wore leather Sam Browne waist and cross belts, denoting them as officers. They wore green berets, that singled them as the best; Royal Marines Commando. One was tall, well-built and looked like the proverbial brick shit house.

The other was about medium height and dark haired. Both were captains, and both had chests full of campaign ribbons.

The third, a colonel, was around the same height as the dark haired captain, his own going from blonde to white-grey. His chest was even heavier, and there were Royal Appointments there, too.

The three officers followed their US liaison to the lift, anticipation and apprehension in equal measure. They had been requested along to a new venture by the HQ of the newly appointed UKGTF, or United Kingdom Gate Task Force. These three officers were representing the Royal Navy, as for the moment, as the Navy Infantry, it would only be Royal Marines who were part of this on the RN's behalf.

They looked straight ahead, waiting as the lift descended.

"How far do we go?" the tall captain voiced, his accent thick with the brogue of County Down, Northern Ireland. The US soldier pointed to the elevator pad, at the highlighted button saying '15', but said nothing. The tall captain frowned, holding back a comment. The shorter one couldn't help but speak up.

"Is that the way you respond to an officer in the United States Airforce?" the accent was full of Glasgow charm, without any of the broad, guttural sound some of the cities inhabitants managed to produce.

"That will be enough, captain,"

"Yes, colonel Salmon. Sorry sir."

"It's fine. But the captain is right, sergeant…." Salmon looked at the name tag on his shirt. "Sergeant Rodriguez. How long have you been in the military, son?" Salmon asked, rounding on the sergeant.

"Three years. Sir." The sergeant replied.

"Had much field experience?" the tall captain asked.

"No, sir. Been stationed here the whole time."

"Ever gone through this…Stargate?" Salmon asked.

"No sir."

"Ever engaged the enemy?"

"No. Sir."

The doors to the elevator pinged as they reached the 15th level of the installation. Just as Salmon bellowed in the sergeant's face, stilling the entire corridor.

"Then in that case, when a Captain in the Royal Marines Commando asks you a question, you reply with some GODDAMN RESPECT! This man had fought since before you joined the Airforce! From now on, every time you see this captain, you salute him, headdress or not! Now, get back up to the top, we won't require your services anymore!"

Everyone there, from the DPM's of the British soldiers to the USAF personnel, looked wide eyed as the sergeant desperately pressed the button on the lift, if only to get away from the colonel's ire.

"Anything wrong, colonel?" a voice asked. The three Marines turned to see an Airforce general facing them. He was older than Salmon, and although he was starting to get a little round at the waist, it was obvious he had been a fighting soldier. The three Marines quickly threw salutes.

"No, General Landry, sir." Salmon replied politely. "Just some USAF hospitality."

Landry chuckled. "I see you have been reading up on me, colonel, but I don't have the benefit of knowing you three. I will assume you are Andy Salmon?" Landry asked, holding out his hand.

"Yes, sir." Salmon shook the proffered hand warmly. "These are Captains John McGarry and Nathan Macara," Salmon pointed to them in turn.

The two men shook hands with the general. Landry gave one of his wry, half-smiles.

"Well, your General McAllister is waiting. Shall we?" Landry led them to the office of Major General McAllister, CO of the UKGTF.

* * *

The meeting lasted over two hours, before the captains were released to explore the SGC. McGarry and Macara strode through the levels, inspecting areas. They had a USAF liaison, a sergeant named Siler, who just wouldn't shut up.

"In this room we held a semi-omnipotent being, before he escaped and…."

"Fantastic, sergeant. Absolutely brilliant. But, could you maybe show us something a little more useful, like, I don't know, the mess?" McGarry suggested.

"Oh, yes, off course sir," Siler nodded. "Follow me,"

The captains followed the olive-jump suited sergeant, feeling slightly overdressed in their No.2s. The sergeant led them through the twisting corridors and to a crowded area.

As they walked, a USAF colonel in olive drabbed walked by, reading from a sheef of papers in his hand. Siler stiffened to attention. "Colonel Mitchell," he muttered.

"As you were," the colonel said distractedly.

"Colonel Mitchell? Sir, could we..." McGarry began to say, wishing to talk to Cameron. They had, obviously, read about SG-1's exploits in their reports.

"Sorry, no time," Mitchell said, walking on. Macara snorted with derision.

"Nice to see we are valued…." Macara said. The two officers continued walking, Siler trying to make explanations for Mitchell's apparent rudeness. He tried his best to keep up with the two officers fast pace and still talk to their faces as he went.

"The colonel is a very busy man, being CO of SG-1 and…."

There was a meaty smack, then Siler slumped to the floor with a thud.

The door to one of the labs had just opened, Colonel Carter and Dr. Lee both standing there, shocked looks on their faces.

"Sergeant Siler! I'm so sorry!" Carter said, looking at the blood pouring form Siler's nose.

"Nits fign ma'am…..narely hgurts at tall…." Siler's words were distorted as he held his nose. Macara was chuckling, and McGarry very tenderly suggested the sergeant went to the infirmary. Siler, still a little non-plussed, nodded, and staggered away.

"Head down, sergeant!" Macara shouted. "If you hold your head back you'll choke on your blood!" the captain offered the advice, still laughing out loud.

"And you gentlemen are?" Carter asked, hand son her hips at the apparent lack of rank-respect. Sam never usually bothered about such things, but these strangers were laughing at a long time member off the SGC, and she was not going to stand for that.

McGarry and Macara came to attention quickly.

"Captains McGarry and Macara, UKGTF, ma'am." McGarry said, putting a little more emphasis on his lilt that he knew the ladies liked.

Sam just looked at the two, unimpressed.

"No salute?"

Macara was quick with his answer. "No, ma'am. As we are not wearing regimental cover, we are not obliged to do so,"

Sam looked at the berets neatly folded in their epaulettes that the men had placed there during the meeting, gave a little grin as she realised she walked into that one, and nodded.

"Very well. Now, is there anything we can do to help you?"

"Actually, ma'am, there is. We were wanting to speak to as many members of SG-1 as possible." McGarry, said, losing some of his bluster.

"Well, Dr. Lee and I were a little busy, but you are welcome to come with us whilst we work." She offered.

McGarry nodded, eyes still fixed on her. The four started walking down the corridor to some more labs.

"So, how are you settling in to the SGC?" she asked. Macara made a show of looking at a timepiece on his wrist that wasn't really there, and replied.

"Well, in the last hour and a half, not _really_ had much of a chance…."

"Ah, yeah, I guess. Are you looking forward to your first gate trip?" Carter tried another tack.

"Oh yes, ma'am. Indeed we are, ma'am," McGarry replied earnestly. Carter blushed, just a fraction, as she realised the attentions she had drawn.

"What work are you doing, ma'am?" Macara asked as they approached the laboratory. Dr. Lee jumped at the chance here.

"Well, captains, we will be looking at the after-effects of ionising the field differentials of a…captain…Captain?"

Macara was already walking away by this point. McGarry, tearing his gaze from colonel Carter, hurried after him, leaving the two scientists wondering at what had just happened.

"Next person we talk to isn't to be smarter than us," McGarry said as the two men stepped from the lift. "Although, she was well fine,"

"Captain McGarry, _she_ is a Lieutenant-Colonel in the USAF. And, not that attractive, in my opinion,"

"Whit? Are ya blind or something?" John's accent thickened as he spoke. "She was gorgeous!"

"Each to their own, mate. Now, I think this is the way to the area where Jackson does his research." The smaller captain led the way. The two Marines turned a corner past a USAF security sergeant in beret who saluted – forcing the Marines to acknowledge – before walking into another lab that looked extremely similar to all the rest they had seen thus far. Sitting studying some strange looking antiques was a dark-haired, bespectacled man who could only be Dr. Daniel Jackson.

The two officers halted and made their greetings. Daniel continued reading. Macara coughed. Still, Jackson read.

McGarry went to pick up another object, a strange, alien, plastic looking thing that could have been a container or box, when Daniel finally looked up.

"No, no, wait! Don't!" he said running over and talking it form McGarry's hands, his face aghast.

"Sorry, Doctor. Some piece of alien technology?"

"No!"Daniel replied. "It's got my lunch in it."

Macara burst out laughing, and McGarry scratched the back of his head. The two officers made their greeting again, and Daniel reciprocated.

"Nice to meet you guys. Sorry about that, I was just finishing some research," he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose in his normal way.

"It's great to meet you, Doctor Jackson," Macara said earnestly. "We've read a great deal about SG-1. I also read some of your papers,"

"You did?" Jackson asked.

"Oh, yes. I love Earth's ancient past. Though, I thought you were crazy at the time," Macara chuckled. McGarry just shook his head, and Daniel sucked air through his teeth.

"I know better _now_," Macara sighed.

Daniel stood with his hands in his pockets for a few moments, not enjoying the awkward silence, before trying to ignite conversation.

"So….how are you finding the SGC?" Daniel asked, hands deeply in BDU pockets.

"Impressive," McGarry said.

"Boring," Macara said.

"Boring?" Daniel was confused.

"So far, we have been in a meeting, and then tried to talk to several members of staff, as well as look around. We can't get into anything interesting, because it's US military, and no one will have a proper conversation," the captain said, starting to get a little frustrated.

"Well, you could always go and see the gate?" Daniel asked. "I'm sure you'd find that impressive. I can take you now, if you want, talk you through a little of it? Daniel offered.

"Not if you're busy, Doctor," Macara replied. "Though, it would be great to hear some of what you know about these gates. You are the expert, after all,"

Daniel warmed suddenly to these two soldiers, who genuinely seemed to want his knowledge in more than just in an emergency situation. "Well, I need a break, and some coffee, so why not….." Jackson got no further, as a loud and rather imposing presence entered the room.

"Okay, Daniel, I have an idea on something fun we can do together…." Vala bounded in, fluffy handcuffs in hand. "Oh. Hello," she said in surprise as she noticed the two marines. Upon seeing the well-built men in their fine uniforms, her tone change.

"Hello boys. Nice to meet you." She gave one of her cheeky grins, tongue just apparent through her teeth. She was eyeing up Captain McGarry, who, again, was almost smitten. Macara shook his head.

"This is Vala Mal Doran," Daniel said, rolling his eyes.

"Ah," Macara said. He had read about her in the files.

"What do you mean, ah?" Vala asked, prodding his chest with the hand holding the cuffs.

"Erm…nothing, ma'am,"

Vala frowned at him for a moment, before beaming a smile at both. "So, where are you from? Those are strange accents, and I've never seen uniforms like those before,"

"The UK, ma'am," Macara replied politely, trying to ignore her feminine wiles that she didn't seem able to keep under control. "Royal Marines,"

"Royal? So, are you a monarchs guard or something?" she asked, popping her bubble gum as she did.

"No. Just the best infantry in the world," McGarry said, loving the attention. "All the way from Britain to help win your little war,"

"Ah….so you're the 'damned Limeys' that everyone keeps talking about?" she said.

The officer's brows arched in annoyance, and there was a slight hiss as Daniel gasped air through his teeth, and Vala looked round in confusion.

"I'm right, aren't I? That's who these men are?" she asked, a picture of misplaced-innocence.

"Yes, but….that's not something that should have been said to their faces…." Daniel replied in his normal way, before looking at the soldiers. "Sorry"

Vala bit her lip and looked up into the Ulsterman's eyes. "Sorry," she mouthed.

"Nae worries, we've heard worse," Macara said. "We'll, eh, just head to the gate, shall we?" he asked John.

"Good idea,"

The two officers turned and left, with Vala sticking her head out the door, calling after them.

"Don't you two want to stay and….?" Was as far as she got before she was jerked back into the room, no doubt by a vengeful Jackson.

"Right, to the gate room," Macara said, pointing. The two men went along, and reached the large blast doors. The guard barely even watched them until they approached the doors themselves. Macara went into his breast pocket to retrieve the swipe card he had been given, and then reached forward.

"Sorry, sir. Only those persons fully authorised may enter," the Guard said. Macara halted his reach for the swipe-slot, but kept his arm extended. He just glared into the Airman's eyes, causing him to flinch slightly under the gaze. Then the Captain continued to reach forward, and the swipe reader bleeped once and went green, before the great doors slowly slid apart.

"Oh," the Guard said.

"Oh." Macara repeated cynically.

McGarry and Macara walked in, and stood before the ramp to the Gate.

They looked at the girth, inspecting the chevrons, the clamps, leaving nothing out.

"_Hey, who are you? Hey, you can't just be in there!"_ a little voice came desperately through the tannoy. Looking round, the Brits could see a small, bald man with more chevrons on his arm than a work-site. Neither really knew which number of stripes stood for what, but he was obviously some kind of sergeant rank. Master, maybe? McGarry just tapped the rank pins on his epaulette, and both ignored the little man.

"_I'm not taking responsibility for this_," the master-chief sergeant replied.

For a few moments more, the two officers looked around the gate room, before a deep, powerful voice spoke behind them.

"New-comers often say it is bigger than they thought it would be." The tall, black man in cream and grey robes spoke. He had a gold tattoo on his forehead. He had a manner about him that made the two soldiers feel both welcome, yet slightly out of place in a close knit family.

"Actually, I was wondering how something so small could link to other Galaxies, and cause so much trouble. You could barely fit a Warrior through there," Macara said, a little too snidely.

"Normally, it is polite to introduce ones' self before criticising another," the big man said, the smile on face not concealing the insult Macara had just implied. Macara blanched slightly, realising he had just insulted the big man, whether he had meant to or not.

"I apologise. I am Captain Macara, Royal Marines Commando, and this is Captain McGarry." both men shook the big hand that was offered to them. "I assume you are Teal'c of Chulak?"

"Indeed, Captain Macara. I would ask what you meant by your previous comment? Many warriors can fit through this Stargate,"

"The captain was referring to an armoured vehicle we use in Britain,"

"Ah. Interesting. I would very much like to know more about our new allies, if you would be willing," Teal'c requested.

McGarry smiled; he was never one to miss a good conversation. "Don't you worry, we can tell you anything you need. Yer man here fancies himself the military historian," McGarry gestured at Nathan.

"That would be good, captain McGarry. When I have returned to the SGC, it will be good to hear if the comments the personnel on this base made about the UKGTF and the British are true," Teal'c said in all innocence.

"They did?" Macara asked, annoyed once more.

"Indeed. However, I could not tell if they were being serious, or merely speaking in jest. The Tau'ri sense of humour often evades me," Teal'c replied. The big Jaffa was no fool, and quickly covered up his slight blunder in a most feasible manner. Brows furrowed again, but the two men realised Teal'c needed to use the gate. They nodded their 'cheerios' to Teal'c, and stood back to watch the gate come to life.

The chevrons all locked, and the small sergeant with the funny voice spoke as each one went on.

There was a tiny, barely detectable rumble, and the 'kawoosh' exploded outward. McGarry and Macara took an involuntary step back. They stared in awe at the blue, water-like puddle.

Teal'c nodded his farewell, and stepped through. The gate remained open for a moment longer, before closing.

"Okay. Maybe it's a little impressive," Macara admitted. McGarry chuckled.

The two men turned at a harsh rattle on armour-plex glass. They looked up, and saw Colonel Salmon with General McAllister and General Landry. The tannoy went off, and the annoying little sergeant spoke.

"The general would like to see you both. They want to know where you've been,"

As if to emphasise, Landry pointed at the briefing room and mouthed "now".

"Oh well, we better get up stairs," McGarry said.

"Yay, I can't wait," Macara replied sarcastically. The two friends went up the stairs to officially start their SGC careers.

* * *

Of the men in the photograph, Macara was the only one left.

John had been killed within a few days of arriving, fighting against Ori foot soldiers. And of course, only months ago, Gaje Rai died bravely fighting the Nephilim. Macara didn't know how much more of this he could take. How many more friends could he see killed?

Looking at his alarm, he realised he was a little late for their next meeting. Had the hours passed that quickly?

Getting up, he began to get changed.


	7. Chapter 7

"He's late. Again." Woolsey said. "What is wrong with him?"

Sheppard thought for a moment. "I'm not sure, but he has seemed a little…different…since he got back,"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we know he had PTSD in the past, and several Marines were lost in combat whilst he was out there. It may be coming back again," Sheppard replied.

Woolsey thought for a moment. "Should I arrange to have him sent home?"

"Maybe. We'll have to wait and see," Sheppard replied sadly. "But sending him home now may only make things worse,"

Woolsey nodded, watching the Anakim talk on the other side of the room. The one named Haleth was still in the infirmary.

"How is the Australian captain?" Woolsey asked as the thought struck him.

"Doing better," Sheppard said. "But the injury was worse than the Anakim thought. It's going to take some work."

Woolsey just nodded. How many more officers did he risk losing?

* * *

Ben struggled in the bed, and a gasp emitted from his lips, teeth clenched tight. He was unconscious now, his wound growing further and further. The growth could actually be watched visibly now, it was moving so fast. Ben was stripped to the waist, his well-built torso going grey across almost half its surface now. Black veins were starting to stand out. It reached up his neck from the wounded shoulder, and the skin was the same here, too.

"What is going on?" Anne asked sternly, yet still unable to hide the worry from her voice.

"The wound is far more progressed than I had thought," Haleth replied calmly, still leaning over the human.

"You said it would be easy to heal!" Keller exclaimed.

"I was going on your words on how long he was injured, Lady, and I was judging by our abilities to resist the effects of the Cursed blades," Haleth muttered back.

He had spread many strange tools and containers round himself, and was using bits and pieces from each. Lorelle diligently passed containers as asked, learning all she could. Anne, normally the image of composure and inner strength, couldn't bring herself to do anything other than worry for her son.

As Haleth applied various gels, the speed of the infection seemed to slow markedly. But it didn't stop.

Ben's eyes shot wide open, but all that was there were wide, black orbs, staring outward.

"Ben!" Anne shouted, trying to push forward. Keller grabbed her in an embrace, partly comforting, partly to restrain her.

Haleth shook his head, standing.

"I am at the limit. The wound was worse than we had feared. You," he pointed at Keller. "Go and fetch Timral."

Keller, not used to being told what to do in her own Infirmary, stood her ground.

"Look here, you don' tell me…"

"Now!"

Keller ran to her office to get her radio, and Haleth returned to Ben's side, simply trying to slow the process.

"What's happening?" Anne said, voice breaking down with fear.

"He is dying, and it is happening now," Haleth said simply. "The infection has reached his vital organs and they are shutting down." He said, slicing into flesh and applying more gel. He watched as the infection literally recoiled back for a few moments, before attacking healthy tissue again. Ben's eyes closed again, and there was a low sigh as his chest stopped beating….

Anne was at Ben's side in a heartbeat, stroking his head, speaking to him, tears in her eyes.

A faint glow emanated from her for a heartbeat, not long enough for anyone in the room to notice.

Almost anyone.

Haleth tilted his head as he watched the worried mother, a question filling his thoughts.

_Ben floated in darkness. Occasionally, he could hear the beat of wings. He was alone, and although he could move, he could go nowhere except into the darkness._

_Despite the black all around, he could see as if illuminated with light, he could see his own form. He wore a white set of robes from the waist down, similar to the Spartans of old, or the Anakim currently in Atlantis._

_He was in pain. Ben knew he was not dead yet, because he could just make out voice, as if heard from just in earshot. He couldn't hear the words, but he knew the voices._

_His mum, Keller, Lorelle._

_They were worried. The pain was getting worse, and even this dream version of him struggled to breath. He may not be dead, but the young captain knew he was dying. It terrified him, yet at the same time, he was calm. The worst thing was not seeing his family again._

"_Don't think like that," a voice said from behind him._

_Ben's dream-image turned, and it looked upon a young, handsome man in the robes of an Ancient. _

"_Who…who are you?"_

"_I am Agathon," the man said simply. His image wavered, as if ghostly._

"_But…"_

"_Do not ask more, just fight! Do not let these feelings over take you!" Agathon replied._

"_You must survive," another voice, silky and full of grace, said._

_A woman now stood with Agathon._

"_I've been wounded by the Nephilim. There's nothing they can do," Ben sighed. "I'm dying,"_

"_This one, Inarin, knows not whom to listen to," Agathon snorted. "Dying, he says. Boy, you will only die now if you let yourself. You might not be able to make yourself well, but you can stop this fall until Timral gets there,"_

_Ben looked at Agathon and the woman, now identified as Inarin. They wavered again, and seemed to draw back from him._

"_What's happening? Can you stay and help me?"Ben cried._

"_No, boy. We are hosted in the minds of great people, and thus our presence in your conscious is very limited. In fact, if we stay longer, we risk losing our souls that have lived on this long. We do this only to help save you, and thus ensure the survival of the galaxy."_

"_But I cannot be that important!" Ben cried._

"_You are, but not in the way he implies," Inarin said gently. "You're death in battle may or may not come, we cannot tell. You may tip the tides of a conflict, or die in vain, we cannot tell. But, if you die now, you will affect the hearts and spirits of those who WILL tip the scale, and they will be unable to do what is needed."_

_The two figures grew fainter again._

"_We have no time left, young one," Inarin said. "But there is one, a Warrior, he will make you fight!" her eyes lit up a moment before the figures vanished completely._

"_Who? What?" Ben muttered, before almost doubling over in pain again. It took several seconds, or at least it seemed that way, to right himself. As he stood and looked round, he called again. "Who can help me?"_

"_Me, lad," a voice said, before a punch sent him flying to the 'ground' in his dark prison. _

_Ben looked up, and saw a man with bleached hair, a neat trimmed beard and wild eyes. He had a golden torque round his neck, and a great sword strapped to his back. He wore a rough skirt of brown cloth over tight leggings; almost a kilt, but as if from a much earlier time, long before tartan. There was something familiar about him…_

"_Who are you?" Ben said desperately, backing away._

"_I am Lorcan, and lad, I have as little time as Agathon and the Lady Inarin. But I will make you fight." The image spat, throwing more punches._

_Ben rolled with the blows, blocking and avoiding. He stopped a back hand from Lorcan, before the Warrior punched him in the face. Ben cried in agony, but no damage was done, no bones broken. Ben felt anger rise in him, and now he fought back, punching, kicking, using all his military training. Somehow, this ancient Warrior evaded and blocked, but the figure grinned and snarled._

"_Good!"_

* * *

"Timral will be here as quickly as he can…" Keller said, noticing suddenly the look on Anne's face and the stillness of his chest. "Oh, Anne, I'm sorry…"

The blackened veins and pale skin suddenly halted its advance, and almost seemed to be physically pushed back towards the original wound. Haleth stared questioningly, Anne backing away in fright as Ben's flesh rippled.

The captain gasped suddenly, lungs filling with air. He did not wake, but lived noen-the-less. Keller ran over with a breathing-aid, but Haleth held her back.

"What are you…let me…"

"Silence! And watch."

"Why? What is going on?" Anne asked, tears staining her face.

"He is fighting back,"

* * *

"_Come on, lad! Fight!" Lorcan roared. The Warrior pressed his attack, but Ben could see him becoming fainter, just like Inarin and Agathon._

_Ben attacked again, smashing fists into Lorcan, who took each blow, laughing. _

"_You can do it. Keep going."_

_The pair fought on, until Lorcan held up a hand, "Stop. Listen,"_

_Ben stopped, not even panting, his Dream-image needing no such rest. He listened to the voices._

"_Is that the other Anakim?" he asked._

"_Sounds like," Lorcan smiled. He held out a hand to Ben. "Keep strong in the time ahead, lad."_

"_Who are you all?" Ben asked again in desperate confusion, still utterly unsure of what was happening._

"_Never mind who we are," Lorcan said before growing fainter. "Live, and enjoy it. But, one thing,"_

"_What?"_

"_A favour. Do not mention this to your friends and family. They _will_ believe you, and it could cause unknown chaos. Just be satisfied that there are powers beyond what you know, fighting to help you all," Lorcan replied._

"_But…"_

"_Just, keep this to yourself. I don't really understand it either, lad, but Agathon demanded I say it, so I have." Lorcan grinned. "I am, after all, just a Warrior," he said finally, fading from view._

_Ben looked around the darkness, but none of the figures returned._

_The darkness, however, was starting to become greyer…._

* * *

"He is coming round," Timral said. He held his right hand above the wound on Ben's shoulder, and a golden glow was emitting from both.

Sheppard and Ronon where there too, having come from the tower with Timral.

"What…" Keller began. Haleth answered quickly, and quietly, as not to disturb Timral.

"The greatest amongst us had the power of healing. They could bring someone back from close to death, but not death itself. They could cure anything, but it cost a little part of themselves each time. The more is used, the longer it takes to heal. And you are never as whole as before you healed," Haleth explained. Anne and Keller looked shocked, yet grateful for the sacrifice Timral was making.

Black, tar like material oozed from Ben's wound, splashing to the floor. It writhed and bubble, but Haleth, always at hand, scorched the substance with fire from his hands.

Timral drew his hand away, and the very last dark material splattered to the ground. Haleth burned it, before catching Timral. Timral took a moment to regain his composure, before weakly standing on his own.

"I would be grateful if a message could be relayed to the waiting human officials, I must rest in my guest room," he said to Sheppard, slowly walking away. Sheppard just nodded, dumbfounded.

Haleth bowed to Anne, before following his master.

Anne and Keller turned to Ben, who was sitting up now, eyes reddened slightly. Ronon was crouching beside him, asking him how he was.

Anne rushed over and hugged him. "My baby, how are you?" she asked breathlessly.

"Alive, ma. Alive." He managed.

"Man, do the Macgregor's breed 'em tough," Sheppard whistled in awe.

"That bloody hurt," Ben muttered, an instant before falling into a healthy sleep.

* * *

Larrin looked at the tactical readout from her ship.

"There is definitely something there," She whispered. The scans were ghosting now, but there _were_ ships out there.

Larrin was on one of the Generational Ships of the Traveler fleet, going on a wide patrol to try and discover more planets with usable resources. With them were seven more of these ships, and the Aurora class that John Sheppard helped them to claim. The small flotilla sat in orbit of a planet that had plenty of consumables.

Almost twelve minutes earlier, they had detected several hyperspace exit-points. But they were strangely shadowed; none of the Traveler sensors could make out what they were. They weren't Wraith, Larrin knew that for certain, because Wraith showed up on Traveler sensors half a system away. These were different.

"How long until we can make a visual confirmation?" Larrin asked the operator beside her.

"Three minutes,"

Larrin moved so she could get a better view. The other ships in her command fanned into a combat spread.

The minutes seemed to crawl by. Beads of sweat trickled down the face of several bridge crew.

"Come on already," Larrin muttered under her breath.

From round the planet, the first two jet black shapes emerged. They were similar to Wraith cruisers, only with strange wing like appendages. They made no aggressive moves, just fanning out.

Three more cruisers appeared behind these a moment later.

"What are they?" Larrin demanded. "They look Wraith, why didn't we detect them?"

"There is something strange about these ones, Larrin," the Traveler at Ops said. "Their hulls appear to have changed in composition. And they have new sections jutting out,"

"But...what is..." Larrin said, before stopping again. Her eyes widened slightly, fear filling her. From behind the cruiser screen, two former-Hiveships appeared, just as modified and different as the Cruisers were.

"Get us out of here. Now."

"But Larrin, our people on the surface..."

"Now!" she barked.

* * *

The Nephilim ships drifted malignantly forward, wings extending, changing the whole ergonomics of the vessels.

The Traveler Generational Ships came about as quickly as they could, trying to make for an exit vector.

And then the Nephilim fired.

* * *

_The Milky Way_

"Sir, Lucian Ha'tak's on scopes," the tactical officer called to Colonel Ellis.

"Very good. Ready the main batteries, and someone get the Admiral up here," the colonel ordered.

"Yes, sir,"

Ellis watched his tactical readout and could count four Ha'tak's coming straight at them. He wondered if they had the same upgrades as the Wraith Hives had received from the Nephilim, because otherwise the Ha'tak's were in trouble.

MacGregor and the rest of SG-1 appeared moments later, stepping into the bridge.

"Yes, colonel?

"We have them, sir."

MacGregor smiled a predatory grin. "Good. Action stations Colonel, let's take it to them."

"Yes, sir." Ellis said with steel in his voice.

* * *

_Atlantis_

"That doesn't sound like much of a plan to me," Sheppard said angrily to the Anakim. "You have weapons and shields that can better protect us from the Nephilim!"

"Yes, they would," Timral said simply.

"So why won't you give them to us?" Caldwell piped up.

"Our weapons systems cannot simply be transferred to your ships. You would have to totally reconfigure your engines to even power them. Your current power sources could not power them AND your ship." Timral said patiently.

"But you have said our energy weapons will do little damage, as we ourselves have seen," Caldwell replied evenly.

"Your missiles and railguns will prove sufficient, in support of the Silver Star," Haleth spoke up.

"I think you are underestimating what we are capable of!" McKay said in protest, his pride getting the better of him. "We have adapted Ancient, Goa'uld and Asgard technology into our ships,"

"And ours is beyond any of that. _We_ had to _help_ the Ancients to make best use of their technology after they left their home galaxy. They were still relatively simplistic, by our standards," Timral stopped McKay mid flow.

"But with your help we could..."

"We could not teach you to incorporate our technology in a century of learning, doctor," Haleth muttered.

"Yeah, I'll bet. So this has nothing to do with not wanting us to get our hands on your tech..."

"Enough!" Woolsey said with much more authority than usual. "Doctor McKay, be quiet and let Lord Timral speak!"

The tall Anakim nodded. "Due to these problems with technology, we will concentrate on the Hives, you will take out the cruisers and support us,"

"Even the cruisers proved more than capable of damaging our 304's." Sheppard said. "And we don't know how many they have converted yet,"

Timral nodded again. "This is true, Colonel Sheppard. Tell me again, from this list you have provided, how many ships could we have ready for an attack?"

Caldwell looked at his own list.

"The _Dreadnaught_, _Odyssey_, _Britannia_ and _Chicago_ are all part of the Milky Way Defence fleet," the colonel read. "That means we would have the _Victory_, the _Lorcan_, the _Frasier_ and the _Daedalus_. We could probably manage to get the _Cuchulainn_, too. And the _Apollo_ might be able to come from the Milky Way."

"Four cruisers, a Carrier and a Battleship. Not the biggest fleet," Sheppard muttered.

"Should we leave Earth undefended, colonel?" Woolsey asked. Sheppard shook his head.

"These forces may not prove sufficient," Timral warned. "Even with my own vessel, this fight will be difficult,"

"What about Drones?" Macara asked.

"Major?"

"Ancient Drones. We've never seen them used on the Nephilim. How effective would they be?"

"Alteran Drones were relatively effective against Nephilim ships in the past, however we would have to test this out on their new Hybrid craft." Haleth replied. "But exposing Atlantis to the Nephilim would be a grave tactical error. You do not want the Nephilim to know you are here,"

"The major has a point," Sheppard said suddenly. "What is we could get a ship with a full drone compliment to attack a Nephilim cruiser, and see how well it goes?"

"But we don't have a ship with those capabilities colonel," Caldwell said.

"But we know someone who does," Sheppard smiled "The Travelers,"

"They have that Aurora you helped them to activate!" McKay said, clicking his fingers. "Of course, that's a great idea!" he said, before suddenly frowning. "Why didn't I think of that..."

"Can we contact them?" Macara asked.

Sheppard's face fell then. "Well...that may prove a little more problematic..."

"Then we need to begin searching for them." Woolsey decided. "General, could you send out some of your ships to places we know the Travelers frequent?"

"Of course, mister Woolsey."

"This plan sounds agreeable. Let us know if we can assist in finding these 'Travelers'," Timral offered.

"Well, thank you, that would be..." Woolsey was cut off mid-sentence by the Tannoy.

"_Sirs, we have ships in bound,_" a Belgain voice spoke.

"Who is it?" Sheppard asked.

"_Scans show it to be three Traveler ships_,"

Sheppard smiled. "Well, speak of the Devil, eh? Talk about timing."

"_Sir, they are emitting emergency signals; they have been attacked, and are venting atmosphere. One ship is almost completely crippled,_"

"Who attacked them?" Caldwell asked, already knowing the answer.

"_The Nephilim._"


	8. Chapter 8

The Infirmary was filled to bursting – they had even requisitioned some space from adjacent dorms and empty labs to put up cots.

Anne was in overall charge, Keller her direct subordinate, with the regular Atlantis medical team, three British combat medics and four American corpsmen. There was also a Canadian unit medic, halfway between corpsman and army nurse in skill, and of course, Lorrelle. A dozen or so normal squaddies were also present, moving stretchers and lifting people to and from cots where needed. Those troopers were from several different units, and different nations. Pulling together to help those in need. They went about their business with fervent dedication, even though none of the casualties was an Atlantis member.

They had around forty seriously injured Travelers, with another thirty lesser injured in the peripheral rooms that had been re-tasked. The corpsmen saw to the lesser wounds, leaving the fully trained medical staff to deal with the serious cases.

"I need clamps here!" Keller called. "I need to compress this wound!"

"Get me some plasma, now!" Anne shouted above the tumult, treating a young and very attractive blonde Traveler, whose face was a mask of blood and soot. "She's lost a lot of blood, so hurry!"

"I need some sulfadiazine concentrate!" the Canadian medic boomed, treating one of the many burn wounds present.

Dozens of similar calls were made as efforts were made to save as many as possible.

"I need some help here!"

* * *

"Jesus," Squadron Leader Dale muttered, the tale of the battle shocking the Rock Ape.

"What followed?" Woolsey asked.

The Anakim were keeping a respectful distance, at least until the Travelers could be assured that they were different from the ones who attacked them. Sheppard, Macara, Teyla and Ronon listened intently, the other officers standing a little behind. McKay stood, arms folded, for some reason in one of _those_ moods.

"There was nothing we could do. They were so powerful. We lost six generational ships. Six!" Katana Labrea exasperated. She held a simple gauze-and-pad field dressing to a gash down the side of her face. She had been aboard her Generational ship during the battle, and it was one of the two that returned.

"How did they get the jump on you?" Macara asked quietly. "Did they just appear from hyperspace?"

"What do you think, major? That they would have sat and waited to see who the ships were otherwise?" McKay said in his regular superior tone.

"McKay, I swear..." Macara growled, making the scientist back away.

"That's exactly what happened," Katana replied, looking even more crest fallen. "We were on a survey mission, and had people on the ground. We picked up sensor ghosts at long distance, moving round the planet, and we couldn't identify them. Larrin waited until we could make a visual. By then, it was too late,"

Teyla put an arm round Katana. When the Traveler colony was destroyed, and their Aurora almost destroyed as well, Katana had come to Atlantis to get their assistance. Teyla and she had become good friends when McKay and Zalenka had gone to help repair the Aurora Class afterwards.

"There was nothing you could do. The Nephilim are a terrible foe," Teyla said gently.

"Our Aurora, and Larrin's ship, managed to destroy a cruiser between them. The drones worked better than all our ships energy weapons put together."

"I knew it!" McKay clicked his fingers, smiling slightly. "I knew the drones would..." The look on Macara's face silenced McKay instantly.

"Where is Larrin?" Sheppard asked suddenly, fearing the worst.

Katana looked up, face ashen now. "Her ship was destroyed. It managed to launch some shuttles, and we took on some survivors, but I did not see her amongst them. We...she..."

Teyla comforted the normally strong and indefatigable Katana.

Sheppard was already running to the infirmary. Macara gave McKay another withering glance, before following after the colonel. Ronon stalked after them, Teyla staying with Katana.

* * *

"Damn! She's fibrillating! We need to defib, now," Anne muttered as her team worked on one young woman. Her face was coated in blood, staining long, blonde hair.

She had several large lacerations, and she was bleeding out. Now, her heart was failing too.

One of Keller's team rushed over with a de-fibrillator, but it was too late. The woman's heart just wasn't strong enough.

"Time of death, 14:22. Cause, severe trauma from multiple shrapnel laceration causing shock to the heart." Anne said sadly. A US Marine and an Australian SASR gently lifted the body onto a stretcher and began to carry her to a slowly enlarging fatality pile.

Sheppard arrived just in time to see the matted blonde hair touching the ground as the stretcher was lowered, and a sheet covering the woman's face.

"No! Dammit!" the colonel was over beside the body in a heartbeat. He pulled back the now bloodstained cloth to check the face.

The woman was pretty, but too young to be Larrin. Sheppard could tell, even through all the blood, that it wasn't the larger-than-life Traveler leader.

Macara had never seen Sheppard like this. It was completely out of character, well, at least from what he had seen of the colonel. He knew the colonel would give his life for his friends, do anything for them but this...this was something more.

Sheppard reverently replaced the death shroud, and began checking all the bodies. He did it calmly, with dignity, but Macara and Ronon could tell that inside he was desperately hoping to find someone.

Or in this case, not to.

Keller came over, also worried by what she saw.

"Colonel who are you..."

"Larrin. No one has seen her since they escaped." John said quickly, not even looking up.

"John, you heard what Katana said. She may not have made it out..."

"Ronon, this was our fault. They went after the Travelers to get to us, I can feel it. I won't let her die because of our actions," Sheppard's words were sheathed in steel, and even Ronon knew better than to argue. The big man simply walked over, and began to check through the lower-triaged casualties in the outer 'wards'. Macara began searching the dead with the colonel.

Keller looked over at Anne, who was just about to start on another patient. She needed a rest, having treated seven patients in a row, non-stop. Keller would step in.

"I'll send Captain MacGregor over. Maybe she can help," Jennifer said, smiling sadly at the colonel before walking away to get Anne.

Sheppard had finished, having looked under every shroud.

"Well, at least she's not amongst the dead, sir," Macara said as optimistically as possible. Ronon walked back into the room, and shook his head.

Anne approached, talking a pair of bloody rubber gloves off and placing them in a disposal bin. "Colonel, Dr Keller said you wanted some help?"

"Dr MacGregor, I'm sorry to bother you. Have you treated any blonde women?" Macara asked.

"Yes, one. We just placed her over there," Anne pointed to the first shroud John had looked under.

"No others yet? Did you see Larrin?" he asked desperately.

"No...well...wait. There was one woman. She had burns on her right side, and several deep lacerations. I couldn't see her face, it was covered in grime and blood...why...that couldn't have been...could it?"

"What happened?" Sheppard begged, eyes wide. He still had some of his composure, but Macara could tell he was only just holding back a flood of emotion.

"She survived, just. She's still critical. We put her and a few others in the quarantine lab as a sort of ICU..." Anne got no further as John strode off, fighting the urge not to break into a full on run.

Ronon gave Macara a rough nudge. "Let's go,"

The major nodded and followed. "Do you think she is still alive?"

"Well, from the way I heard she beat Sheppard up, I think she's a proper little fighter. I kinda hope so; I want her to do it again." Ronon said. Macara realised even the big man was worried;

Worried for Larrin, possibly, but more so for Sheppard, his friend, and how it would hit him.

They were behind Sheppard as he crouched over a figure lying swathed in bandages, with a plasma drip linked to her arm. He was gently stroking dirt and blood from her face.

"It's her," the colonel whispered, before turning to Ronon and Nathan. "It's her!"

* * *

MacGregor surveyed the scene of the battle. The Lucian Ha'taks drifted, burning and crippled. One had been completely destroyed. He was getting impatient. He wanted to be away.

The _Dreadnaught_ had taken some hull damage, as the Ha'taks fired with Nephilim upgraded weapons. But, without Creidhne's expertise, this particular Nephilim had been unable to make the Ha'taks so formidable.

"_No reports of any survivors on this ship, Admiral,_" the USAF officer radioed back to the _Dreadnaught_. "_No Nephilim either,_"

"Very good, major. Come back across."

"_Yes_, _sir_."

"What now, Admiral?" Ellis asked

"Well, colonel, with your permission, I would like you to destroy what's left of that ship. Then, turn your weapons on the other hulks and we can head back to the SGC,"

"Sir...of course, but...don't you wish to hunt for the Nephilim? Ellis asked in genuine surprise.

"I don't want to risk men boarding those ships. They are in a worse condition than that last one. No, blow it,"

"Sir, our sensors don't penetrate their upgraded hulls. There may be survivors," Ellis tried again. MacGregor's look told him what would be the best option. Ellis sighed. "Major, prepare batteries and open fire on the last ships."

"Aye, sir."

Beside the admiral, Cate looked at her father.

"Dad, are you really not going to look for surv..."

"On the bridge, it's admiral, Agent MacGregor. Off the bridge you can call me anything you want." The admiral said a little sharply. Cate was surprised; he had never acted like that before. As senior officers went, he was strict when he had to be, but he would never be malignant with his rank.

"Sorry. Sir." She said, and turned and left the bridge.

MacGregor realised that he had probably been a little harsh, but he didn't want to be here, chasing dregs of Lucian thugs with the possibility of a Nephilim on occasion. Not the most serious threat.

Mac really wanted to be in Pegasus, with the troops and fleet, stopping the main Nephilim force from destroying Atlantis and then coming on to Earth. Only their petulant hatred of the Ancients and Anakim kept them in Pegasus in the first place, trying to destroy the things they built. As soon as they could build their forces, find the last sleeping Fallen Ones, they would come back to the Milky Way.

And there was the urge, the feeling. Something at the back of Mac's head not only wanted to go, but was telling him he needed to go. That it was what he was born for.

"Colonel, admiral, we have a comm form an unidentified ship," the comms officer looked over in surprise.

"Who is it?" Ellis asked.

"A ship claiming to be the _Red_ _Hawk_. They say they are the Anakim!"

Mac was stunned. "Put them on; let's see what they want."

* * *

"Major, we have another report coming in," Chuck spoke to Macara, the duty officer. "The Nephilim have hit a Genii colony-outpost. Ladon Radim wonders if we can send any support or aid?"

"How bad is it?"

"Lots of dead, soldiers and civilians. Ladon was there in person, seeing how the building of the colony was going, making sure it was properly concealed from hunting Wraith."

Macara looked over at the briefing room. The debates were still raging on how best to proceed. General Salmon had come through the Stargate, his first actual trip off world. He was representing the UK's interests in the situation. He had held his head in one hand for a couple of hours now, taking notes with the other and staying unusually quiet. Captain Stewart was coming close to trading blows with General Caldwell. The US personnel, almost to a man, agreed with Caldwell's appraisals. Woolsey, to his credit, was both mediating and still retaining his own opinion, not being sidelined by the soldiers.

The representatives of France, Australia and Russia were in there as well, trying to agree on Earth's fate.

Sheppard tried his hardest to stay out of the arguments, even when his opinion was being asked. Ronon and Teyla had long since left to do other things, knowing their knowledge and experience was not required right now.

The Anakim had returned to their ships until the humans could get over this situation. They had seemed a little disgusted by the events, believing humanity to be a united force, only now finding out that they were fractured and damned hard to get to agree with each other.

Macara shook his, knowing that he couldn't bother any of the people senior to him.

"Get a couple of teams together, section sized, and then assemble as much humanitarian aid as we can spare. Then get it shipped out to them."

"Will do, major,"

Macara sighed. The Nephilim were making more attacks, on more erstwhile allies of Atlantis. This wasn't good.

* * *

Out in orbit, amongst debris left from one of the more badly damaged Generational ships, a small, black shape, shining like dark glass, pulled away from concealment and made for the outer edges of the system. Before any sensors could get a fix on the craft, if was gone, shooting into hyperspace.

Back to the Nephilim.

* * *

"This plan has all the tactical acumen of the Charge of the Light Brigade," Caldwell replied caustically.

"Erm...I think you'll find we won that battle, General," Salmon muttered, breaking his silence for the first time in twenty minutes.

Woolsey held up a hand. "Gentlemen, please. Insults will get us nowhere. Look, we have to agree on _something_! All we have established so far is that, in space we lose to them. On the ground, we can beat them, but only just and only with the biggest guns we have got. And we still take heavy casualties. So far, no one's plans are suitable! Not without a heavy cost in lives."

"Men die in war, Mr. Woolsey. It is sad and regrettable, but it happens." Caldwell said honestly. "No plan will be without risk."

"Weren't you just talking about Balaclava?" Stewart muttered.

"What was that captain?" the US general growled back.

"What? Me, sir? Nothing sir, nothing at all."

"Show some damned respect!" Commander Connolly snarled at Stewart. It seemed their friendship did not come before their countries.

"You say men die in war, but whose men will those be, General? We have a lot to thank the US for, over the last decade, but in the last couple of years, the death toll amongst foreign members has risen, and that of the SGC steadily fallen. Who would be on the front line, General? US Marines, or Russian infantry, British airforce?" the Russian representative, a man by the name of Melcovic, asked bitterly.

"I can't remember the last time the Russians committed any major forces. In fact, don't you have all of three officers and a dozen men invested in Atlantis?" the Australian representative, one of their Parliamentary Ministers, John Deakin, asked with a hiss.

"We lost a whole cruiser, and provided teams for years."

"Well, we now have..."

"That is IT! Stop it, now!" Salmon barked. "I have had enough. We need to work together. We can't do this alone. You realise we are just doing them a favour here? By fighting amongst ourselves, we can't fight them with all our strength. We have to stand together. That means ALL the countries in the Gate Alliance. Now, the operational ideas so far have, pretty much, been poor. Engaging in large ground operations won't work, because they will have more forces. Yes, we can beat the Wraith, but those Nephilim are the real problem. This larger, monstrous one, 'Balor', I believe the notes called him, he chewed through battle tanks with his bare hands! We must find a way to settle this without engaging in larger planet-side operations.

"In space, we don't fare well against equal numbers of enemy ships; their technology surpasses ours by too wide a margin. When we outnumber them, we have a much better chance. We have the Anakim, and now the Traveler Aurora. We should concentrate on a few ships at a time, and pound them. That is our best fleet plan. But there lies the next problem; where are they?"

"With respect, general, we've been over these ideas too, weeks ago," Caldwell spoke out.

"And dismissed them because they weren't complicated enough, I presume? I know the Atlantis expedition has solved many, many life or death situations with their complex plans, and the likes of Doctor McKay working on them. But sometimes, the simple ideas are the best. No need for hyperspace volcano escapes, nor anti-replicator viruses. The best thing McKay could be working on is a way to improve our Railguns' impacts on the enemy ships."

Caldwell nodded. "Okay, true enough. I agree on a lot of that actually."

"Another thing is more lateral military support. More troops to support the Americans in the field. They can't take the whole burden," Salmon pointed out, trying to stay polite.

"More troops mean more security risks," Woolsey said nervously. "We would have to see about reinforcing the Official secrets acts for each nation,"

"What would we get in return for more troops?" Melcovic asked, chancing the question all Government representatives wanted to ask when involved in Gate Alliance business.

"We would have to discuss it more once I speak with my superiors, but in the circumstances, access to more advanced materials, more Gate access. Something like that." Caldwell offered.

"That would be...appropriate," Melcovic mused.

"Good. Now, can we civilly discuss this? The sooner we can get the Anakim back the better," Salmon suggested. "So, does anyone else have anything to say?"

* * *

"This is strange," Macara muttered.

"What is?" Sheppard muttered, looking across the table. Well, occasionally looking over the table at Macara. The rest of the time he was looking at one of the pretty Australian expedition members.

"I thought you were all worried about Larrin?" Ronon growled.

"Worried, me? No, concerned maybe. Why would I be worried?" Sheppard replied.

"Yeah, believe that and you'll believe anything," Macara muttered.

"You were saying, major?" Teyla urged, trying to get back on topic.

"Ah, yes. It's strange. Since the strike against the Genii, we haven't heard a single thing about the Nephilim. No attacks, no troop movements, sightings, anything. It's a little...worrying." Macara said, making a little dig at Sheppard.

Sheppard made that little half-smile thing that he did, and looked around. The mess was a busy place today and, happily, he could see a good mix of uniforms. Americans, Atlantis personnel, Brits, Aussies and some Travellers. If nothing else, at least they were pulling together.

"You'd prefer if we were under attack, major?" Teyla asked.

"Not at all. I just want to know where they are and what they are doing, is all."

"That is a very good point." Sheppard said, standing up and lifting his finished lunch tray. "I think we should proba..."

"_Colonel Sheppard to the conference room, please, colonel Sheppard to the conference room_," the tannoy went off loudly, startling some of the people in the mess.

"Typical. Major, you have Gate Operations for the moment,"

"Sir," Macara replied, standing as well.

* * *

"I'm sorry, but so far I've done the best I can." Woolsey said. Once again he was joined by British, Russian, Australian and IOA big-wigs. One of the other IOA men, named, rather suspiciously, John Smith, was doing most of the talking, although the dignitaries were turning their impotent anger to Woolsey.

"The IOA, along with the SGC, has come to realise that the situation is becoming untenable. With this latest request for troops, it has brought much more trouble to the Gate Alliance in terms of funding and secrecy. In none of our other conflicts has the SGC committed so many personnel to combat. The original siege of Atlantis had one of our biggest commitments. And the Ori war, whilst intense, did not have full infantry companies engaged at one time." Smith said simply.

"We have never fought an opponent such as this," Caldwell said simply.

"It also costs money to keep these operations going," Woolsey pointed out, though somewhat reluctantly.

"Also, we cannot keep providing aid to other nations of the Pegasus galaxy." Smith chimed again. "We need the resources for our own people."

The doors opened a fraction, and Sheppard spoke up as he entered the briefing room. "Those people are under attack because the Nephilim want us."

"That is not the point. We cannot afford to keep up such commitments. Also, I have some further bad news," Smith said, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Get on with it," Caldwell said, arms folded aggressively.

"We are not posting more forces to Atlantis; in fact, we are going to scale back troop numbers in the city. We have decided we may return to original forces levels."

The room erupted then, angry voices going back and forth.

"Richard, did you know about this?" Caldwell barked at Woolsey, who just shrugged unhappily.

"Enough!" Sheppard tried to calm the situation. "Stop it!"

There was a 'whumph' that stilled the room. Ronon had his pistol out on stun, and had shot the ceiling. The assembled dignitaries sat back in shock.

"Thanks chewie. Mr. Smith, how do you expect us to continue the fight against the Nephilim and win it with reduced forces?"

Smith looked the colonel up and down, not one hint of emotion escaping his face or his expensively-suited body language. "We are not sure you can defeat them. At least, not in this Galaxy, colonel Sheppard."

This time, instead of anger, there was just stunned silence.

"Withdrawal will begin in a month, gentlemen. And until then, try to keep your offensive activities to a minimum, please," Smith finished, carefully arranging some papers into his briefcase, in preperation to leave.

"No British soldier will leave Atlantis until the GTF says so," Salmon said sharply. "The IOA may control the SGC, but in the Gate Alliance treaty that brought the Gate Task Force into existence, we have as much access to the Gate as required. We also have our own ships now. We will remain here until the threat is defeated."

"Can you dedicate that level of support?" Caldwell asked quietly.

"Our government will not be happy taking the burden, but we have, so far, made great advances in Ancient technology found around UK territories thanks to our Atlantis involvement. Also, we know that the Nephilim pose a massive threat. And if our funding to the IOA will not be used fighting here, then we will withdraw it and use it ourselves,"

"Now, General..." Mr. Smith began

"Mr. Smith, the Nephilim are not a threat like the Wraith were, where we could keep them in the dark about Earth's location. Whether you want to admit it or not, they have inter-galactic travel abilities, and the knowledge to come for us. I am sure the US government will not let you abandon this campaign either, but until such times as they sort out the political front, we will do what we can."

Sheppard felt his chest swell with pride; he had never once thought the UK, in his opinion a nation of conservative shopkeepers, would take such a hard line.

"If the Brits stay, so do we," Deakin said for Australia. "We won't let the Pommes show us up."

"Very well, that is your own concern," Smith said, for the first time showing something other than indifference as anger creased his face. "Woolsey, I'll see you in your office, please,"

"Of course."

"_Mr. Woolsey, we have just checked our sensors. The Anakim have left orbit,"_ Macara's voice came over the comms.

Woolsey looked shocked "Did they say why?"

"_No, sir. But McKay picked up a signal; they had tapped into city communications. They were listening to your meeting. About 3 minutes ago, they stopped and just...left."_

"Brilliant," Sheppard said. "Just Brilliant."


End file.
